Faded Stars
by Branchwing
Summary: When the deputy of ThunderClan is murdered, a young cat named Mouseheart is chosen as his replacement. To add on to his burden, the leader has tasked him to uncover the former deputy's murderer, too. Will he succeed?
1. Allegiances and Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors. I only own the plot and most characters. Molestar and Stemtail are older versions of canon characters (Molewhisker and Stemkit respectively).**

* * *

 **Allegiances**

 **ThunderClan**

 ** _Leader_** Molestar – Graying brown-and-cream tom

 ** _Deputy_** Mouseheart – Light brown tabby tom with green eyes

 ** _Medicine Cat_** Ravendusk – Black-and-white she-cat with amber eyes

 ** _Warriors (toms, and she-cats without kits)_**

Seedbreeze – Cream she-cat with amber eyes

Stormspark – Gray tom with striking yellow eyes

 ** _Apprentice, Weaselpaw_**

Beesong – Pale gray she-cat with a black muzzle and paws

Redfang – Dark ginger she-cat with yellow eyes

 ** _Apprentice, Birdpaw_**

Icefoot – Dark gray tabby tom with a white paw

Stemtail – White-and-orange tom

Aspenspring – Pale tabby she-cat with icy-blue eyes

Whitewillow – White she-cat with yellow splotches

 ** _Apprentice, Nettlepaw_**

Mossyfall – Mottled brown tom with green eyes

Pricklepelt – Long-furred black she-cat with blue eyes

Swiftflurry – Tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with green eyes

Mistnose – Smoky gray tom with yellow eyes

 ** _Apprentice, Sootpaw_**

Daisyheart – Tawny-and-white she-cat with blue eyes

Lightningskip – Long-legged ginger tom with green eyes

Froststing – Gray-and-white she-cat with yellow eyes

Speckfeather – Flecked white tom

Kestrelshade – Dark brown tom with a torn ear

 ** _Apprentices (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)_**

Sootpaw – Brown and black she-cat with amber eyes

Weaselpaw – Brown tom with blue eyes

Nettlepaw – Silvery-gray tom with amber eyes

Birdpaw – White she-cat with yellow eyes

 ** _Queens (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)_**

Plumsnout – Gray she-cat with blue eyes, mother to Emberkit (dark gray she-kit with amber eyes) and Flowerkit (dark gray she-kit with blue eyes)

Dovetail – Pale ginger she-cat with a long tail, mother to Fawnkit (pale ginger she-kit with green eyes), Flamekit (ginger tom with yellow eyes), and Oakkit (pale brown tom with green eyes)

Darkblossom – Black she-cat with blue eyes, expecting Mistnose's kits

Snowpond – White she-cat, mother to Blizzardkit (white tom)

 ** _Elders (former warriors and queens, now retired)_**

Needlebelly – Mangy gray she-cat with yellow eyes

Waspdust – Dark gray tom with black stripes

 **Cats Outside Clans**

White – White tom with one eye

Twist – Gray tabby tom with yellow eyes

* * *

 **Prologue**

In the undergrowth of the forest, a black cat crept through the snow, his white head hung down low. He had caught wind of a mouse nearby, and he was not going to let it escape in the midst of leafbare. Soon enough, he would find the mouse, and he _will_ catch it. His paw steps were light in the snow, barely making a sound.

Finally, it came into view. A plump mouse was scavenging any berry it could find, scurrying across the snow. Its own distraction would soon be its downfall, the tom thought. Slowly, he crept up to the mouse, and waited for a chance to strike. As it gnawed on a fallen berry, the cat pounced on the mouse from his hiding place, and sank his teeth into the mouse's neck. Now, it had fallen limp.

The black tom lifted his head, the mouse dangling from his mouth, only held by its tail. He sniffed the air to see if he could find another piece of prey for him to catch.

A familiar scent hit his mouth. It was another cat from his Clan, ThunderClan. He could tell just by their scent. He looked around to see who it was. He could not find a single soul in sight.

 _Huh? Did someone need me?_ he wondered, his gaze still searching the land.

After one last look, he shook his head. _It's probably just my imagination_.

Suddenly, without warning, he was tackled, and thrown to the ground. Dropping his mouse out of surprise, he felt teeth dig into his neck, and claws digging into his shoulders, holding the tom down. In the corner of her vision, a scarlet liquid bled out onto the snow, staining it red.

As he let out a screech of pain, blood gushed out of his throat, and it became progressively harder and harder to breathe. He felt like he was drowning, his vision blurred red.

As his screams faded, everything went dark.

* * *

 **A/N: So, here's a new story coming from me - Faded Stars. I'm hoping for it to have about 15 or so chapters, and I'll try to update it as much as possible. Of course, I can't guarantee this, due my procrastinating nature. Why did I only put ThunderClan in the allegiances? Because that's probably the only Clan you'll see in this story, along with the two rogues in the allegiances. I do have a list of the other Clans, so I'll use them if needed. "What about Broken Path?". It'll probably be on hiatus for a little while, unfortunately, after I post the next chapter of that within the next month or so, or at the very least update less frequently as it used to. The first chapter should be out within the next few days. With that, Branchwing, out~!**


	2. Chapter 1

"…I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors and Snowface may hear and approve of my choice," the leader of ThunderClan yowled, his voice echoing throughout the camp.

A light brown tabby tom gazed at the large tom, standing tall on the Highledge. Despite the leader's age, Molestar was as strong as ever. Although he was curious who the next deputy would be following Snowhead's recent death, a strong desire _not_ to be deputy burned inside of him. He didn't see himself as leader-like at all – he barely even had the courage to fight in battle.

"Mouseheart will be the new deputy of ThunderClan," he finally announced. His gaze rested on the tabby tom, and the rest of the Clan's attention was turned to Mouseheart.

 _Me?_ The tabby was taken aback by his announcement. Never had he expected to be the deputy of ThunderClan, and there was no way he was fit to be one. Sure, he had trained up an apprentice, but deputy? Mouseheart could never see himself being one.

He wanted to decline the opportunity, he just was not ready to be the deputy. The brown tom lifted an eyebrow, expecting an answer.

Instead, he found himself saying, "I-It's an honor to be the deputy of ThunderClan, Molestar." Now he really can't go back. After a moment of thought, he meowed, "I promise I will serve my Clan for as many moons as I can."

His green eyes swept across the clearing, looking at the cats. Did he do something wrong?

A few moments later, all at once, the ThunderClan cats began cheering his name. "Mouseheart! Mouseheart!"

The brown tom couldn't help but give a small smile. "Thank you," he muttered gingerly.

"Clan dismissed," Molestar announced. With that, the cats dispersed, going back to doing their own things.

"Mouseheart, congratulations!" a familiar voice exclaimed. Looking around, the tabby tom saw a gray tom running up to him, smiling. He stopped a few mouse-lengths before Mouseheart, his yellow eyes filled with joy. "I never even expected you to be a deputy."

"Yeah, me too," a calm voice joined in. Coming out of the chaos was Mouseheart's former apprentice, Icefoot. The dark gray tabby tom sat down beside the gray cat, bowing his head. "Congratulations."

Mouseheart dipped his head. "Thanks, Stormspark, Icefoot…" He glanced down at his paws, shuffling them awkwardly.

His long-time friend tilted his head. If someone knew what was wrong with him, it was Stormspark. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

The tom remained silent. "…It's nothing." He didn't want to confess he did not feel ready to become the deputy.

"Come on, Mouseheart. I know something's wrong," he meowed, his nicked ear twitching. The newly-made deputy remained silent, trying to look away from the gray tom's yellow gaze.

"Please?" Stormspark begged. "We won't tell anyone."

"He doesn't have to," Icefoot meowed quietly, putting a tail in front of the other warrior. "Maybe it's best if we don't know."

"He's right, Stormspark," Mouseheart agreed, giving a quick glance towards the gray warrior.

Stormspark flattened his ears, disappointed. "Oh, fine…"

"We can go hunting, if you want," Icefoot suggested to the group. "We can celebrate Mouseheart's new… deputy-ship."

Mouseheart hesitated before giving a response, and lifted his head. "But what if Molestar needs me for something?"

"Relax, Mouseheart," Stormspark started. "Just tell Molestar you're going hunting with us. It can't hurt, right?"

"Right…" The deputy glanced around nervously. "But still, what if badgers attack the camp? What if foxes attacks the camp? What if-"

"Mouseheart. Calm down. We don't want you having a panic attack," Icefoot pressed.

"Plus, don't you know how putrid they smell? We could scent them from tree-lengths away, I bet!" Stormspark added.

"…Fine. If you say so," Mouseheart meowed. The mangy tom started to climb up to Molestar's den, with his friends following him. Arriving at his den, the cats found him emerging from his den, and was taken off guard by the new arrivals.

"Hmm?" he grunted. After a few moments of silence, the brown-and-cream leader began to speak again. "Hello, Mouseheart. I was actually going to look for you."

The tabby's ears perked up in surprise, eyes widened. "You were?!"

"Don't be surprised," the leader meowed. "You will be talking to me often, now that you are the deputy of ThunderClan." He flicked his tail, beckoning the light brown tom. "Come into my den," he muttered. As Stormspark and Icefoot took a few steps, the graying tom flashed a glare at them. "I want Mouseheart only. Unless you have something you want to talk about with me, you two are free to go."

The deputy turned his head to look at the two warriors, flattening his ears. Giving worried glances, Mouseheart watched as his friends climbed to the exit of the camp, and disappeared into the forest of bare trees. Giving one last look at them, he padded into Molestar's den with its inhabitant.

Molestar lowered his tail, signaling for the tabby to sit down. After he did, the leader sat down as well. With an uneasy glare, the tom sighed.

"You know, Mouseheart, I am proud to see how far you have come since you became a warrior. You've not only grown in skill, but in courage, too," he started, dipping his head in respect. "But that is not all I have to say to you."

The brown tabby looked up at the ThunderClan leader, who was huge compared to his small stature. "…What is it?"

"I want you to find out who killed Snowface."

His words echoed through the den as silence settled in. Mouseheart could start to feel the bitter cold claw its way into his pelt. Could he really solve the mystery of who killed the deputy? He wasn't even sure.

"…Wait… are you sure I can do this, Molestar?" he asked, still unsure of himself.

"I know you are a clever cat, Mouseheart. I know you can do this. You just have to trust yourself," he meowed. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Y-Yes," he stuttered out an answer.

"Then show it. Please, find out who killed Snowface," Molestar demanded. He flicked his tail. "That is all. You may leave now, and I only have one other order for you right now – organize a hunting patrol, please."

Nervously, Mouseheart nodded. "…Yes, Molestar." Slinking out of the den, climbing down to the clearing, he looked around for cats to put on the hunting patrol.

His eyes drifted towards a cream she-cat grooming herself. Whenever he looked at the beautiful Seedbreeze, he'd always felt something warm and strange inside of him. Maybe today, he could make himself be on the same patrol as her? He does have the ability to do that now…

He shook his head slightly. No. He had to organize the hunting patrol, and investigate the murder, starting with examining Snowface's body. He can't let himself get distracted by love. But, he could put the she-cat on the hunting patrol…

"S-Seedbreeze!" he called, trying to get her attention.

The cream warrior stopped what she was doing, and got up on her paws, fluffing her fur out. She padded over to the new deputy, with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes?" she mewed.

He paused, gazing into her amber eyes. _Dear StarClan, her eyes are stunning._

"Stop staring at me," she snapped, bringing Mouseheart to his senses. He took a step backwards.

"Oh, sorry," he mewed, startled by her harsh reaction.

"What did you need me for, again?" Seedbreeze demanded, a stern expression on her face.

"Umm…" His eyes drifted down to a scar on the cream she-cat's shoulder. "I was just wondering how you got that scar."

She lifted her leg, showing off the long scar. "This?" The tabby tom nodded. "Well, I got it in a battle with ShadowClan when I was an apprentice." Seedbreeze paused, looking down at the small tom. "And I'm sure you were just a kit."

"Oh… Well, thanks for telling me," he meowed, unsure of what else to say. Mouseheart knew she was older than him, but he didn't think she was _that_ much older than him.

"You're welcome." The warrior turned around, and started to walk back to where she was sitting.

"Wait, Seedbreeze!" he yowled once more. He forgot to tell her that he would be putting her on a hunting patrol.

 _Mouse-brain_ , he told himself. _I can't be wasting my time like this when I have deputy duties!_

The cream she-cat turned her head towards Mouseheart. "What now?" she grumbled.

"I-I forgot to tell you – you're on a hunting patrol," the light brown tom meowed.

"Am I?" She padded up to him once more. "Who else is on it?"

Mouseheart glanced around the camp nervously, looking for other cats. Whoever he saw first, they will be on the hunting patrol. Near the apprentices' den, he saw a white she-cat, Birdpaw, padding up to a dark ginger warrior, her mentor, Redfang. Next, he saw Weaselpaw emerging from the den, a few brambles clinging to his fur.

 _He's probably looking for Stormspark,_ he thought. When the brown tom became an apprentice two moons ago, Mouseheart remembered Stormspark boasting to him about how he had finally gotten an apprentice. Either way, the gray tom was probably still hunting with Icefoot. What was the point of putting an apprentice on a patrol when their mentor wasn't at camp right now?

He scanned the camp once more, and spotted a familiar orange-and-white tom, who was emerging from the warriors' den. Stemtail, a well-respected senior warrior, was said to be older than some of the elders, even. And with his appearance, Mouseheart had found the other cats on the hunting patrol.

"Redfang! Birdpaw! Stemtail!" he yowled. "You're on the hunting patrol!"

All three cats stopped what they were doing, and started to climb down to the hollow, where Seedbreeze and Mouseheart were. He noticed that Birdpaw's ears were perked up, her tail swishing around. He knew that she was excited, he just knew it.

"A hunting patrol, hmm?" Stemtail meowed, flicking his tail. "That's fine with me."

"Maybe we can find something for once," Redfang meowed, looking past Mouseheart's shoulder. "The fresh-kill pile has barely anything on it."

"Yeah, I'm starving!" Birdpaw complained.

"We won't catch anything if we sit here complaining," Seedbreeze snapped, head tilted towards the apprentice. She then lifted her head, looking at the other cats. "Come on, let's go." The cream she-cat swiftly dashed out of the hollow, with the other participants following close behind.

"Make sure to come back with something!" he shouted to the departing cats.

Mouseheart let out a long sigh. _I wish I could have gone... I could have spent some time with Seedbreeze. But… duties are duties._ He sat down, and looked up at the sky, the sun blazing in the middle of it. _I hope I'm doing this right._

He looked down at the ground, the bitter air brushing his pelt. _It isn't even moonrise yet, but there's still so much I have to do._

The tabby tom got up on his paws, and headed to the elders' den. He really hoped that they haven't buried Snowface yet. Climbing up to their den, he peeked into it, and saw no one in there. Worry crept its way into his mind. Where could they be?

"Hey, Mouseheart," a she-cat's voice greeted. "You looking for us?"

He turned around to see a mangy gray she-cat and a dark gray tabby tom, rubbing herbs on a limp, black body. The gray she-cat, Needlebelly, was gazing at the deputy with piercing yellow eyes. Even though the herbs were working, he still could smell a trace of the foul scent of death

"Hi, Needlebelly, Waspdust," he greeted.

"Hello," the dark gray tabby, Waspdust, meowed. His blind amber eyes did not drift away from the body as he spoke; he was more focused on rubbing the lavender on the former deputy's corpse.

"Yes, I actually was looking for you," Mouseheart meowed, answering the elder's previous question. "Molestar has given me the task of finding out who killed Snowface, and I wanted to find his body."

"He did?" Needlebelly blinked. "Well, go ahead."

"What?" The elder lifted his head. "No," Waspdust hissed. "Don't you know how repulsive Snowface still smells?"

"Come on, he doesn't smell that bad," the mangy she-cat argued. "Mouseheart can come look at it."

The gray tabby tom let out a groan of annoyance. "Oh, fine. He can come over." He looked down at the body once more, pausing momentarily before opening his mouth to speak again. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Mouseheart."

"Thank you," he muttered solemnly. Needlebelly stepped out of the way, leaving enough space for Mouseheart to get to the side of the body she was on. The brown tom walked up to the black deputy's body, wrinkling his nose in disgust of the smell.

He had to admit, he did not enjoy watching someone die, or even looking at a dead body. An image of his deceased father's body came into his mind, which had horrified Mouseheart, then Mousepaw. But he was tasked with finding Snowface's murderers, and part of that was facing his fears. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the body.

Although the black tom's fur was flattened by the herbs the two elders had rubbed on, supplied by ThunderClan's very own medicine cat, the wound left by his killer was still visible. A clear bite wound was punctured into his neck, indicated by the drying blood that covered his neck, which had leaked onto his snowy white head. He could have sworn he saw blood on the tom's shoulder, too, but he was having trouble finding a wound on it. Mouseheart shuddered at the sight.

Lifting his head, he turned his head to face Needlebelly. "Do you know who was on the patrol that found his body?"

Needlebelly paused momentarily, and then meowed, "I can't remember. My memory's not as good as it used to, young tomcat."

"Why don't you ask your mother?" Waspdust muttered. "She's still around, isn't she?"

"Aspenspring?" The tabby blinked. "…I guess I could ask her."

"Then ask her." The elder's amber gaze did not move from Snowface's body. "She wouldn't mind."

"Good idea," Needlebelly commented quietly.

"Alright." Mouseheart started to climb down the rocks to the clearing, giving one last look at the two elders. "Bye, you two. Thanks for letting me looking at Snowface's body."

The gray she-cat gave a slight nod, and smiled. "Any time, Mouseheart. Any time."

As he climbed down the rocks, to the bottom of the stone hollow, he kept on the lookout for the pale tabby she-cat and her icy, watchful gaze. When his pads hit the cold bottom of the camp, he scanned the camp, looking for his mother.

"Hey, Mouseheart!" a sudden voice chimed.

Jumping in surprise, the deputy looked around frantically for the source of the sound, his fur spiked with aggression. As he regained his posture, he saw behind him a pale gray she-cat, looking down at him with wide, yellow eyes that had a certain sparkle to them, and a smile. He relaxed his muscles, seeing as she was not a threat.

 _Oh, her._

"Hi," he greeted the gray she-cat. "How are you?"

"Great!" she exclaimed. "What about you?"

"I'm doing fine, Beesong" he replied.

"Well, great! Congratulations, by the way!" the she-cat, known as Beesong, mewed. After a brief paused, she continued, "…For being ThunderClan's deputy, now! It's such a great honor, I'll never see myself as one."

"Thank you," Mouseheart muttered. "To be honest, I didn't expect being given this honor."

"Aw, don't discourage yourself," the warrior responded. "You'll make a great deputy!"

 _That's what you think,_ the brown tabby said to himself. _I'll never live up to the Clan's expectations like Snowface had._

"You really think so?" the deputy asked in a low whisper. The best he could do right now is to be respectful to the she-cat.

"Yeah!" Beesong nodded furiously, her smile widening.

"You know…" Mouseheart paused, thinking of what to say next. "I was wondering, do you know who was on the patrol that brought Snowface's body back to camp?"

The gray she-cat blinked, swishing her striped tail, before answering. "Well, for one, I was on it!"

"You were?" His eyes widened at the statement. Perhaps he could get a lead now. "Who else was on it?"

"Well… Swiftflurry was!" she answered. "Of course Molestar would put her on one of these patrols, she's really, _really_ fast!" Beesong then whispered into his ear, "I heard she can even catch a rabbit, like those WindClan cats!"

Mouseheart lowered his ears, incurious from her statement. He already knew that. "Right… Who else?"

Beesong stepped back, returning to her original position before answering his question. "Hmm… I think Stemtail was, too!" She quickly added, "Yeah, I think that's right."

 _Stemtail was on the patrol? Why couldn't I asked him earlier?!_ he thought. _Because you didn't know, mouse-brain,_ said his conscience. Of course, he shouldn't blame himself for this. He didn't know.

"Anyone else?" the light tabby tom questioned.

"…I think that's it," the warrior admitted.

"Alright, thank you." Mouseheart dipped his head. "Do you mind if I question you some more?"

"Oh, no, go ahead! I have all of the time you need," she agreed. "And I get to be with you!"

Letting out an annoyed sigh, he sat down, clearing his throat before he began. "Alright, where did you last see Snowface alive?"

Beesong hesitated before answering. "I saw him last night, talking to Pricklepelt. It was right before I went to my nest to sleep."

"Okay, okay." _Now, I just have to hope I remember this next time I talk to Molestar._ "Where did you find Snowface's body?"

"Near the Sky Oak," she answered.

Nodding, Mouseheart paused before saying his next question. "Did you find anything near his body?" the deputy asked.

"I saw a piece of crowfood, but that was all," the gray she-cat meowed. "I wasn't really paying attention. I just know that we were near the Sky Oak."

"Of course," he grumpily muttered before looking up at Beesong once more. "Was there any strange scents near him?"

Beesong shook her head. "No, no. I just smelled ThunderClan cats in the area."

Mouseheart perked his ears up in interest. "Is that all?"

The warrior nodded. "Yeah, that was all."

"Interesting…" The tabby got back on his paws. "…You think another ThunderClan cat killed him?"

"Maybe!" Beesong meowed. "Who knows, though? It could be anyone."

 _That is true._ He gave one final look at his Clanmate. "You're right. Well, thanks for answering my questions. Now, goodbye."

As Mouseheart turned around, the warrior's shrill shriek startled him. "Wait, Mouseheart!" she called. He turned his head to look behind him with a puzzled expression. "Why were you asking me those questions, anyways?" she shouted.

He remained silent for a few moments. "…You don't need to know." He continued on, trying to block out Beesong's voice.

"But I _want_ to know!" she cried. "Please, tell me."

"No," he simply meowed.

" _Please…?_ "

"No."

" _Pretty please-"_

"I said _no_ ," he hissed, swinging around to face her. He lashed his tail angrily, a low growl coming out of his throat.

Beesong stepped back with a look of fear on her face. Trembling with ears flattened, she dashed out of the camp, into the forest.

Relaxing, Mouseheart looked out at the exit of the camp, immediately regretting his actions. He quickly looked away from it, thinking about what had just happened. Head hung down low, he started to head back to his nest.

"Mouseheart!" a familiar voice exclaimed, stopping the deputy in his tracks. "We're back!"

Looking around, he saw Stormspark barreling down the entrance of the camp, with Icefoot not far behind as he slinked into the clearing, holding a bird and a mouse in his mouth.

The gray tom, full of energy, ran around the clearing, surprising many of the ThunderClan cats as he crossed their paths. After his sudden outburst, he strode over to Mouseheart, trying to catch his breath. In the corner of his vision, he saw Icefoot drop the bird and mouse into the fresh-kill pile, and joined them.

"We actually caught something for once, Mouseheart" he meowed. "Did you see that magpie Icefoot was carrying? It was _huge_! I'm so glad we caught it!"

" _I_ caught it," Icefoot pointed out.

"Right, right," the warrior muttered. "Anyways, we almost crossed the border trying to catch the mouse I caught, too! And thanks to my quick thinking, we didn't!"

"There could have been a battle if we did," the dark gray tabby meowed. "We saw some ShadowClan cats hunting, too."

"Oh, and we saw some of our Clanmates, too! Birdpaw was complaining about how she couldn't find anything, so imagine her face when we told her we caught a mouse!" Stormspark chimed.

"No need to boast, Stormspark," Icefoot meowed. "As long as we caught something, we'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just that's so many things I want to say about our hunt!"

Mouseheart flattened his ears. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't join you, guys. Molestar tasked me with a lot of things, I just didn't have time to go out and find you."

"I understand," the tabby meowed. "Being the deputy must be a lot of work."

"It is," he admitted. "And it's only my first day, too."

"Who knows, maybe it'll get better," Stormspark consoled.

"Maybe," the brown tom agreed. He looked away from them, still feeling guilty about sending Beesong away.

"Huh?" Icefoot muttered. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, it looks like there is," the other warrior commented.

"…I got angry at Beesong," Mouseheart revealed to the two warriors.

"You did?" The gray tom blinked with realization. "Is that why she was running out of camp just now?"

He nodded slowly. "I think so."

"But why did you get upset with her?" Icefoot asked. "Was she annoying you again?"

Mouseheart nodded in response.

"I see," he muttered.

"But this is the first time you actually said something about it to her," Stormspark meowed. "That must have hurt."

"I know," the deputy meowed. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Maybe you should go apologize," Icefoot suggested. "You'll feel better about it."

"Maybe when she's in a better mood," he mewed. "She doesn't seem too happy with me right now." Mouseheart continued to the warriors' den. "…I just want to be left alone right now."

"…Alright, if that's what you want," the tabby warrior meowed from behind him.

"Yeah, at least I respect your privacy," Stormspark commented. "See you later, Mouseheart."

"Bye, Mouseheart," Icefoot meowed.

"Bye." The brown tabby slinked into the warriors' den. All was still as he padded over to his nest, all of the cats out doing their duties. He sat down, today's events racing through his mind.

 _Am I really worthy of being ThunderClan's deputy?_

He glanced up at the branches that covered the warriors' den.

 _Please, StarClan, send me a sign if I am. I want to feel like I belong in this position._

Mouseheart lowered his head, eyelids heavy.

 _Because right now… I don't._

* * *

 **A/N: HOLY this is a long chapter. This took way longer than I thought it would, since I was having a little trouble finding an ending place for this chapter. The next few chapters might not be as long as this, but I do want some length in it. Anyways, what do you think so far? Thoughts on the characters and who might have done it? I plan to try to update this weekly, but that might depend on the time I have. Anyways, Branchwing, out!**


	3. Chapter 2

"Mouseheart," a stern voice meowed. "Get up."

Groaning, the tabby tom got up on his paws, the events of the afternoon still lingering in his mind. In front of him was a large, black she-cat staring down at him, who was flicking her tail in annoyance.

"What is it, Pricklepelt?" he asked her, confused.

"Molestar told me to tell you to organize the dusk patrol," the she-cat replied. "You should take your duties more seriously, too."

"I know, I know," Mouseheart uttered under his breath. "Well, to make up for it, how about _I_ lead the patrol. You can be on it, too."

"That's fine with me," Pricklepelt meowed. "And who else will be on it?"

"I'll have to think about that." The deputy turned around and went out the den, facing the hollow for the first time since earlier today. He noticed Daisyheart picking up the mouse Stormspark had caught off of the fresh-kill pile, and sat down next to Lightningskip, who was grooming himself.

"I think you should eat first," the black warrior suggested. "I haven't seen you eat all day."

"Good idea." The brown tabby padded over to the fresh-kill pile, examining what was on it. All that was left was a thin vole. Sighing, he picked it up, and walked a few tail-lengths away from it. He laid down, and began to eat it. It wasn't much, but he would have to deal with it.

No one seemed to bother the tom as he ate. All cats that passed by just glanced down at him, then continued on. Aspenspring had asked if he needed more to eat, although Mouseheart just said he was fine. If he had to be honest, he was starving, but eating the vole had subdued his hunger, even if it just by a little bit.

"So." A black shape hovered over the deputy, blue eyes staring down at him. "Who else is going to be on the patrol?"

"Hmm…" The tabby paused, lost in thought. _Wouldn't it be a good idea to put one of the cats that found Snowface on the patrol?_ he told himself. _Yeah, it would be,_ he reaffirmed himself, giving a slight nod. "What about Swiftflurry?" he finally told Pricklepelt.

The she-cat rolled her eyes, and sighed. "If you say so."

 _Yes!_ Mouseheart gave a nod to her, and sprang to his paws, ready to search for the tortoiseshell warrior. He padded around the camp, looking for Swiftflurry. A few moments later, he noticed a lithe figure coming out of the medicine cat's den, being none other than the very cat he was looking for. The warrior headed towards the entrance of the camp, alarming the brown tom.

"Swiftflurry!" he called. Pausing, the tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat turned her head, and looked around for the source of the sound. "Down here!" Her ears perked up in interest, directing her attention to the small tom at the bottom of the hollow. The graceful she-cat made her way down to where the two cats were and stopped, looking at them with a curious expression.

"Yes?" she asked simply.

"You're going to be on the border patrol with us," Mouseheart instructed. "Now."

Swiftflurry let out a sigh of disappointment. "Aw, mouse-dung. I was just going out to hunt, too."

"Well, maybe you could go hunting after the dusk patrol," the deputy suggested. "They aren't usually that long."

"Well…" The tortoiseshell paused momentarily, with a slight flick to her tail. "If I have to do it, then I don't mind going on the patrol."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "Let's go, then." Signaling for the she-cats to follow him, Mouseheart made his way out of ThunderClan's camp, into the snowy forest. His green eyes scanned the snow for remnants of paw prints, for the chances of getting a lead on Snowface's murderer.

It was the first time he had been out of the camp since the former deputy's murder, he had to admit. Perhaps there would be a trail of blood where he was dragged by the cats on the patrol that found his body. That was still a possibility. It had not snowed for a few days, but the forest was still blanketed with it. Whatever the case may be, he knew there would still red-stained snow at the sight of Snowface's murder.

While on his path to the border, he decided to stop by the Sky Oak first, in search for clues on who the murderer could be. When they got to the oak tree, he signaled the two cats behind him to stop, and he began his examination of the ancient tree.

Circling the tree, he kept his eye out for blood stains, paw prints, and the like. As he made a few rounds around the Sky Oak, he could not find anything notable. But as he made another few rounds, he noticed a tendril of red slipping into view. He stopped, lifting his head. Turning to face the warriors, he signaled for them to follow him once more. With puzzled expressions, they started walking, and with that, Mouseheart padded over to the red snow.

As he approached the source of the blood, he noticed an abundance of paw prints in the area. A large pool of scarlet-stained snow was clearly visible, near a beech tree. He crept up to the area, feeling a little nauseous at the sight of it. He noticed the pool narrowing to a thick trail of blood towards the direction of the camp, being a little more vivid then the other blood stains.

"Hey…" Swiftflurry padded up next to him. "Isn't this where that patrol and I found Snowface?"

"It looks like it," Pricklepelt guessed. "You _do_ remember where you found him, right?"

"Of course I remember," the tortoiseshell she-cat snapped. "I'm not oblivious."

"Good to know," Mouseheart murmured. He scanned the area, looking for any clues.

"Mouseheart, we're on a border patrol," the black warrior reminded him. "We don't have time for this."

"I know," the tabby reassured. "But… I want to investigate."

"Investigate?" Swiftflurry tilted her head, confused by his statement.

"Investigate Snowface's death," he explained. "Molestar tasked me with uncovering who killed him?"

"He did, now?" Pricklepelt meowed. The deputy remained silent, unable to come up with a response. The she-cat lashed her tail, irritated at him.

"Let's just go," the other warrior muttered. "We can come back later."

This caught Mouseheart's attention. "But what if something important is here? What if it's gone by the time we come back?!" he protested.

"Stop worrying," the tortoiseshell cat meowed, restating what Prickepelt had said earlier. "It will be there."

"No," the tabby disagreed. "Once I find something, we will leave."

Responding with a huff, Swiftflurry straightened, and turned her head away from Mouseheart. Pricklepelt glanced at her with a concerned look, and then, the deputy turned back to the scene of the crime. He circled the area, looking for clues towards who killed his predecessor. As he closed in, he started to move slower and slower, taking long looks at the wildlife surrounding the blood pool.

A few roundabouts later, he noticed something dark-colored, clinging to a decaying shrub, he had not noticed before. Lifting his head, he took a few steps closer to investigate. A trace of a familiar scent surrounded it, but Mouseheart could not remember where he had scented it before. Looking closer at the object, he saw that it was a tuft of dark fur.

"Hey…" he started, focused on the tuft of fur. "I found something."

"Finally," he heard Swiftflurry utter. "Can we go to the border now?" she retorted.

"Let me grab this, first." Clenching the dark hairs in his mouth, he gave one last look at the scene, and then continued on throughout the forest, treading through the deep snow, the two warriors close behind.

Once they had arrived at the border between ThunderClan and ShadowClan, he examined the area, looking for any threats.

"You see anything?" he asked the other warriors with him, turning around to face them.

"No," Swiftflurry answered. "Everything looks normal." Pricklepelt, who was looking in the opposite direction from the she-cat, simply shook her head.

"Okay," he affirmed. "Let's mark it."

The three cats slipped through the edge of the clearing dividing the two Clans, marking it as they went. Mouseheart continued looking around for additional threats, and possibly evidence pertaining to who Snowface's murderer was.

As they got to the lake shore, he scanned the area once more. Most of the lake appeared to be frozen, there were small openings every now and then, mainly near RiverClan territory. He only had noticed those ones when he went to the island Gatherings were held on, but he still knew they existed. In the distance, he could see the tree the leaders stood on during Gatherings, its leaves nonexistent.

However, a few fox-lengths away from the patrol, there was a small hole in the ice, right at the edge of the water. Red dapples in the snow trailed down to it, and there, it stopped. Curious, Mouseheart padded over to the hole.

"Mouseheart, what are you doing?" Swiftflurry questioned, irritation egging into her voice. "Is this about Snowface again?"

Giving a slight nod, he looked up at the two she-cats, who were still marking the border. "I think I might have found something," the brown tabby revealed.

"You did?" Pricklepelt gasped. "Let me see."

Without answering, the black she-cat immediately dashed over to him, looking at the hole in the ice. With closer examination, the tom could see a red tinge to the cloudy water, where the trail of red ended.

"Red water…" the warrior murmured.

"Maybe whoever murdered Snowface came here," Mouseheart suggested.

"To wash off the blood?" Pricklepelt wondered.

"Exactly," he confirmed. "That's the only way I could see a reason for going here."

"I don't mean to butt in, but…" Swiftflurry broke in, approaching the two cats. Lifting their heads away from the hole, they looked at the lithe warrior, wondering what she had to say. "There is a trail of paw prints leading away from the hole." She kinked her tail over, pointing towards the aforementioned trail.

"Perfect!" the tabby purred in delight. Padding up to the paw print trail, he looked at the imprints before him. Putting down a paw, he then lift it up, comparing his small paw print to the larger one.

He noticed two black paws put down their paws as well, and then lifted it off the ground. One was huge, even bigger than the suspect's paw prints, and the other was slightly bigger than Mouseheart's, but at the same time, it was smaller than the suspect's. Looking beside himself, on one side, he saw Pricklepelt, who then glanced over to him with an unintelligible expression, and on the other, he saw Swiftflurry, her green eyes gazing down at the paw prints.

Mouseheart let out a sigh of relief. "Alright, so neither of you did it. Good."

"Are you sure?" the tortoiseshell queried. "We don't know for certain if that _is_ his murderer's paw prints."

Dumbfound, it took a few moments before the light brown tom to give a nod to her. "…I guess you're right," he admitted. He stood up, eyes set towards the other end of ThunderClan territory. "Let's go."

Wandering towards the lake shore again, he continued looking around, marking the border, like he was supposed to, as he and the patrol went along. Like at the ThunderClan-ShadowClan border, there was nothing he noticed that could be considered a threat. As darkness started to cast its shadow across the land, a sense of urgency to finish the border patrol clawed at him.

 _Molestar will be wondering where I am_ , Mouseheart told himself. … _But I have to find more evidence!_

As they approached the stream dividing ThunderClan's and WindClan's territories, he scanned the area once more, looking for threats, and most importantly, clues leading to the murder suspect. He reminded himself to keep marking the borders, as he had been doing. He clenched the tuft of fur tightly between his teeth, trying not to let it drop.

"Nothing here," Swiftflurry meowed. "Keep going."

 _I wonder what would have happened if we went out a little earlier,_ the tabby thought. _Maybe we would have come across some WindClan or ShadowClan cats._

As they approached the back end of ThunderClan territory, a scent of an unfamiliar cat came over him. It did not smell like a Clan cat. A rogue? A loner? A kittypet? His head was filled with worries of who it could be.

"Do you smell that?" he fretted, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

The large she-cat bumped into him, throwing the tom off balance. Once he got back on his paws, he looked at the warriors behind him.

"I think I do," Pricklepelt commented. "It smells like a rogue."

"I smell it too," Swiftflurry added.

"What if they're planning to attack ThunderClan?" Mouseheart worried.

"I don't think they will," the black cat insisted. "If you really think that, you've got bees in your brain."

"It's still possible!" the deputy protested.

"Stop arguing," Swiftflurry commanded. "They might hear us."

Lowering her tail, all three cats got down low to the ground, trying to figure out where the unfamiliar cat was. Mouseheart scanned the area, but he could not see anyone. Eventually, he decided to slowly creep towards the source of the smell. As he got closer, a flash of gray sprang out of the woods a few fox-lengths in front of him. The deputy jumped at the sight, stumbling backwards.

"W-What was that?!" he yelped, taken aback by the gray figure. Looking around, he saw that the gray figure had stopped, now standing only fox-lengths away from the tom.

The long-legged cat's tail flicked, and his torn ears twitched. Turning his head, pale yellow eyes pierced through the ThunderClan cat, sending a shiver throughout him. Dangling from his mouth was a large blackbird, causing Mouseheart to gape in awe at him. Lashing his tail, the gray tom turned away from the light brown tom, causing him to walk away.

Once he had left, the two warriors behind him emerged from their hiding places, and blocked the tabby from progressing any further.

"Why didn't you do something?" Swiftflurry hissed. "We could have gave him a lesson for crossing, _and_ hunting, on _our_ territory."

"I-I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I got scared! He seemed like someone you shouldn't mess with."

"Still, Mouseheart," Pricklepelt started. "You should be glad he didn't attack you. Or else we would have _real_ trouble."

"That's the only good thing that came out of this," the tortoiseshell huffed. "You've been nothing but bad luck ever since you brought me on this patrol."

"Come on, Swiftflurry," the black she-cat growled. "He only just became deputy."

"Pricklepelt, he had an _apprentice_ , and I'm pretty sure he's older than you," Swiftflurry argued. "Surely, he is capable of handling deputy duties." She let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't even know why he was chosen to become ThunderClan's deputy," she muttered

"Give him time," the warrior reasoned. "He'll get better."

Swiftflurry lashed her tail in anger, and made a face. "That's it, I'm done here." The tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat turned around, and headed towards the direction of ThunderClan camp.

"Wait, Swiftflurry-" she started to shout.

"She's right," Mouseheart interrupted, lowering his head to avoid the remaining she-cat gaze. "Let's get back to camp, anyways. We've basically went around the territory."

Pricklepelt paused, and then her shoulders relaxed with disappointment. "Fine." The large she-cat turned around towards the direction of the camp, and then the tabby got up, trailing behind her.

As they reentered the camp, the Clan turned their attention to the deputy and his accomplice. Swiftflurry was the only one that did not look up at them, her back turned away from them. First, Pricklepelt entered the camp, and then Mouseheart. Anxiety raced through his mind, wondering what everyone else thought of him.

First, he had snapped at Beesong's annoyance, and sent her running through the forest.

Now, he had caused his own patrol to split up.

Glancing around the camp, he saw that almost everyone, even Dovetail's kits, had come out to watch him return in shame. Like before he had left to go on the border patrol, Beesong was nowhere to be found.

He approached the nearest cat; he did not care who it was in particular. "Do you know where Ravendusk is?" he muttered.

"Ravendusk?" a she-cat meowed. Lifting his head, he saw Plumsnout staring back at him. He glanced down at her paws, seeing her two kits staying close to her. "She's in her den."

"Can I come with you?" Emberkit mewed. "I want to be a medicine cat some day!"

"Sure," he simply answered.

"Yay!" The she-kit bounced around his paws as Mouseheart started to make his way to the medicine cat's den, on the lookout for the black-and-white medicine cat.

Once they arrived, the deputy slinked into the den, and was greeted by the sight of a silver-gray tom vomiting onto a leaf. Looking at the apprentice-sized cat in disgust, he walked past him, to the she-cat whose amber eyes were focused on him.

"Hey, Ravendusk," Mouseheart greeted.

"Hi!" Emberkit greeted as well.

The medicine cat lifted her head, and looked over at the two cats. "Hello," she muttered. "Could you wait? I'm busy."

"What's wrong with him?" Emberkit asked. "That looks gross!"

"Nettlepaw was complaining that he had a bellyache while we were hunting earlier," a white she-cat standing near him explained.

"Correct," Ravendusk confirmed. "I gave him yarrow to help him feel better."

"What does yarrow do?" the dark gray kit asked.

"It's used for poison," the black she-cat explained. "If a cat eats it, they will start throwing up the toxins."

"Ew…" she mewed.

At last, the apprentice had stopped vomiting, and rasped as the last of it came out of him.

"Alright," Ravendusk muttered. She looked over at the white she-cat standing before Nettlepaw. "Could you get a wet bundle of moss, Whitewillow? He'll need some water after that."

"Sure." The white-and-yellow warrior padded out of sight, leaving the group of cats alone.

"So…" Mouseheart mewed. "I need you to see this."

"What?" The deputy dropped the dark tuft of fur he had found earlier at the medicine cat's paws. The she-cat glanced down at it, her eyes narrowing.

"What is this for?" she asked.

"It's a tuft of fur I found near where Snowface was killed," the tabby explained. "I thought you might want to see it."

"I'm guessing Molestar asked you to investigate," Ravendusk meowed.

"Yeah… How did you know?"

"He told me," she said simply. Picking it up, the black-and-white cat put it near a pile of herbs. "I'll keep this with me for now."

"Okay… thank you," Mouseheart mewed.

"You're welcome," she answered. "Is that all you want to see me for?"

"Yeah… that's it," he confirmed.

"Okay, goodbye."

His fur prickled at Ravendusk's coldness. "Bye," the tom muttered. He looked down at the small kit standing next to him.

"Come on, Emberkit," he pressed. "I'll take you back to Plumsnout."

"But I want to stay here…" the she-kit whined.

"Well…" Mouseheart tried to think of something to say. "…She's probably busy. Plus, aren't you tired?"

The dark gray cat shook her head. "No."

"Either way, I think your mother will want you to come back," the deputy meowed.

"Aw…" Gesturing for the kit to follow him, he padded out of the medicine cat's den, making sure Emberkit was following him before he climbed down to the nursery. To his surprise, all of the cats of the Clan had gone back to normal, doing what they were doing before the border patrol had returned.

Once he arrived at the nursery, he poked his head inside, and allowed Emberkit to reunite with her mother and sister. Everything looked normal. Dovetail's kits were curled around the pale ginger she-cat, fast asleep. Darkblossom laid on the ground, her belly swollen as she lashed her tail, and Snowpond gazed down at her lone kit as he drank her milk.

Plumsnout looked up at the brown tabby tom. "Thank you," she whispered.

"No problem," he meowed.

As he left the nursery, he could hear Emberkit and her littermate converse. As he stopped in the middle of the camp, he decided to go to Molestar. Climbing up the hollow, he arrived at the leader's den.

"Molestar? Are you there?" he called.

The cream-and-brown tom emerged from his den, yawning. "Yes, I am." He landed his eyes on the deputy. "It's good to see you, Mouseheart."

"It's good to see you, too," the tabby meowed.

"Do you have anything to report?" he asked.

Mouseheart nodded. "Yeah, we spotted a strange cat on the dusk patrol."

"A strange cat, you say?" Molestar's ear twitched. "What did he look like?"

The deputy paused, thinking back at the sight. "…I'm pretty sure he was gray… and tall."

"That doesn't sound like any cat I know," he meowed. "Are you sure it wasn't a WindClan or ShadowClan cat?"

"He didn't smell like one," the brown tom admitted. "I was thinking he could be a loner."

"A loner, you say?" Molestar closed his eyes momentarily, and then reopened them. "We will have to keep a watch for him. Thank you for telling me."

"Oh, and I found something regarding Snowface!" Mouseheart chimed.

"You did?" His ears perked up in interest. "What?"

"Near where he was killed, I found a tuft of dark fur, hanging off of a shrub," the deputy revealed. "Oh, and in the lake, some of the water was red near the shore!"

Molestar remained silent, taking in the information. "And where is this fur tuft, now?"

"I-I gave it to Ravendusk for safekeeping," he replied.

"That's fine," he meowed. "Anything else?"

His earlier interrogation of Beesong came to mind, but something told him not to mention it. "No," Mouseheart lied.

"Okay," the brown-and-cream tom meowed. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you." Mouseheart left the leader's den, and decided to return to the comfort of the warriors' den. What he was worried about is if someone would comment on the mishap of the border patrol.

Entering the warriors' den, he first scanned the den for Beesong. Once again, there was no sign of her.

 _Where could she be?_ he wondered. _She has to come back by now._

"Hey, Mouseheart," a voice broke into his thoughts. The deputy then saw Icefoot staring at him. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you, too," the tabby responded.

"Pricklepelt told me what happened on your dusk patrol," he meowed. "Is there anything I can do to help you feel better about it?"

"No…" Mouseheart padded over to the gray tabby tom and sat down next to him. "It's just that everything has been going wrong today."

Icefoot looked at him with a puzzled look. "Like what?"

"Well, for one, I scared off Beesong… And I haven't seen her since," the brown cat pointed out.

"That is odd," he admitted. "Even for Beesong."

"I know… And now, I got Swiftflurry mad with me, just because I didn't do anything when that loner stopped," Mouseheart grumbled.

"Maybe you're just having a bad day," Icefoot suggested. "Everyone has those."

"What if it's a bad omen?" the deputy worried. "That could explain why!"

"Relax, Mouseheart; not everything bad means that StarClan disapproves," the tom meowed.

"I hope you're right…" He lowered his head. "Look, I just need some time to think."

Icefoot blinked. "Alright, then. I'll shut up now."

Digging his head into his paws, the events of the day raced through his mind. Breathing deeply, it felt like forever before he finally went to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: x.x Finally, it's done! This took FOREVER to do, but I'm so glad it's done. I thought this would be shorter than the last one, but instead, it turned out to be about the same length! So, thoughts on Swiftflurry? Pricklepelt? Events of the chapter? So, I hope you all like it, and if I keep to my schedule (which I'm actually doing pretty good at), chapter 3 should be here by next Saturday! With that, Branchwing, out!**


	4. Chapter 3

Mouseheart's eyes fluttered open to dim lighting and the bitter touch of leafbare. Blinking a few times, he heaved himself onto his paws, and looked around. A few cats were still asleep, but most cats had left the warriors' den to go outside. Shaking his fur, the tabby padded out of the den, to the hollow. Many cats had already sat down, sharing tongues with one another. At his arrival, many cats started to greet him, and he went over to the fresh-kill pile.

Like yesterday, there was barely anything on it. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he leaned down and grabbed a vole. It wasn't a plump one, but it would work. He padded over to Stormspark, who was eating a rather plump mouse.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Mouseheart asked quietly.

"Not at all," the gray tom answered. Nodding, the tabby laid down next to his friend, and began eating his vole.

"You know, Stormspark…" he started. "Do you really think I'm fit to be deputy?"

"If Molestar thinks so, then of course!" the warrior responded cheerfully. "Why do you ask?"

Mouseheart paused, the mishap at the dusk patrol still fresh in his mind. "…It's just… nothing has been going right for me."

Stormspark remained silent, with a worried look on his face. Taking a bite out of his mouse, he gave a slight nod.

"Uh huh," he uttered. The gray cat turned his head towards the deputy. "But hey, it couldn't get worse."

The tabby let out a sigh. "What if I get someone killed?" he queried. "That's how it can get worse."

"…I guess you're right," the tom meowed. "But I doubt that's going to happen. You're pretty good at making sure no one gets hurt."

"Still, I'm worried," Mouseheart pointed out. "I don't even know if StarClan approves of me being deputy."

"Why don't you ask Ravendusk if she got a sign from them?" Stormspark suggested. "Surely she would know if you're worthy or not."

Hesitating, the deputy took a bite out of his vole. _Maybe he's right_ , he thought. _Maybe Ravendusk would know something. But at the same time, I don't think that will get me anywhere._

"I'll do that later," he replied. "I have to organize the dawn patrol, anyways."

"Okay," the warrior meowed. "Even if she didn't, you shouldn't let yourself down. That won't get you anywhere!"

"I wish I could be." The brown tabby slumped, gazing at the half-eaten vole in his paws. Taking another bite, he did not bother to look over at his friend. He had more things to worry about, like who will be on the border patrol.

"Look, Mouseheart," Stormspark started. "If you're ever feeling down, please remember that your friends are here for you." The tom lifted his head to look over at him. His ear twitching, the warrior smiled. "Like me! If you ever feel down, you can tell me what's wrong. Or Icefoot, too!"

Mouseheart couldn't help but give a small smile. "Thanks, Stormspark. You're a great friend."

"So are you!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad to be your friend!"

The deputy finished his vole, and then stood up. Stormspark was finishing up his mouse, too, but he wasn't done with it yet. He rested his green eyes on the gray tom, flicking his tail. Mouseheart had an idea.

"Hey, Stormspark, do you mind leading the dawn patrol?" he asked.

"The dawn patrol?" the warrior lifted his head. "No, I don't mind at all! In fact, I'm honored to lead one."

The tabby nodded his head. "You deserve it." In a more serious tone, he meowed, "Now, once you decided who's going to be on your patrol, report back to me, alright?"

"I can do that," Stormspark meowed. "I've led a patrol before, you know."

"I know… But a reminder wouldn't hurt," Mouseheart meowed. "Make sure to bring Weaselpaw, too. This will be a good experience for him."

"I can go get him if you want me to," the tom offered. "He's such a pain in the tail, though. He complains about _everything_ , and it's only been two moons!"

"Yikes," he remarked. "I feel bad for you. That's probably the worst attitude someone could have."

Stormspark let out a sigh. "Well, I'm not complaining about it, am I? Despite this, I know it's all going to be over soon."

 _I wish I could be as optimistic as him,_ the tabby told himself. "Well, you can choose who will be on the patrol, now. Report back to me once you have."

"Alright, I'll try my best," the gray warrior promised. He then padded off to the apprentices' den, and Mouseheart gave a slight nod, and went his separate ways.

Jumping onto a ledge, he looked at the hollow. It was slowly coming to life, with warriors sharing tongues and eating, kits prancing in the light snow, and other cats emerging from their dens to start the day. The deputy spotted Stormspark dragging a brown tom, Weaselpaw, from the tail, while the apprentice let out a yowl of protest. He cringed, not wanting to face what the poor tom was enduring.

His ear twitching, he decided that now would be the time to assign a hunting patrol. Climbing down to the hollow, he looked around for someone to lead it. Spotting a brown tom emerging from the warriors' den, he realized that he found the leader of said patrol.

"Mossyfall," Mouseheart called.

The tom's green eyes focused its gaze on the deputy. "Yes?"

"I am choosing _you_ to lead the hunting patrol," he replied.

"Can I see my kits first?" Mossyfall asked. "I don't really have much time to see them otherwise."

"Go ahead," the deputy meowed. "Just make it quick, though."

"Thank you!" The mottled warrior padded past Mouseheart, prompting the small tom to watch him. Turning his head, he smiled. "Do you want to see them? I suppose they never met you."

The tabby tom shuffled his paws. He supposed he had nothing else to do. "Sure."

"Great!" The stocky tom bounced off to the nursery, with Mouseheart trailing behind. Near it, three fluffy kits were wrestling with a moss ball, with a pale ginger she-cat, Dovetail watching not far from them.

"Hey, everyone," Mossyfall announced. The kits stopped their antics, and looked up at the brown warrior.

"Papa!" a pale ginger she-kit resembling Dovetail squeaked. Her littermates, a ginger tom and a light brown tom, looked up at the tom with bright eyes.

"Mossyfall!" the pale ginger she-cat exclaimed. "It's so good to see you!"

"Nice to see you, too." The mottled brown tom went up to the she-cat and brushed his tail against her, and then sat down next to her. The three kits pranced around Mossyfall's paws in excitement.

"I wish I could stay," Mossyfall started, "but I've been chosen to lead a hunting patrol."

"Aw…" the light brown tom whined. "You _always_ lead patrols!"

"I know," he muttered. "But I have to do them, it's all part of being a warrior."

"I want to be a warrior!" the ginger tom-kit squeaked.

"When you're six moons, you can be an apprentice," their mother meowed. "And when you complete your training, you can become a warrior!"

"But I want to be one _now_!" the she-kit protested.

"You have to be patient, Fawnkit," Mossyfall meowed. "Patience will reward you in the future."

"But I'm not patient," Fawnkit mewed.

"But I am!" the brown kit squeaked. "I can wait until we're six moons!"

"I bet he can't," the ginger tom betted.

"Now, now, kits," Dovetail meowed. "Your father's right. Patience will reward you."

Hushing the kits, the pale ginger she-cat walked up to Mouseheart. "So, congratulations on becoming deputy, Mouseheart."

"Thank you," he muttered, dipping his head.

"Isn't Snowface the deputy?" the light brown tom pointed out. The other two kits murmured in agreement.

Dovetail and Mossyfall exchanged nervous glances, and looked down at their kits.

"W-Well, let's just say that he won't be coming back any time soon, Oakkit" Mossyfall tried to explain.

"He died," Mouseheart put bluntly.

"Mouseheart!" Dovetail scolded. "They're just kits!"

"Dovetail, honey," the mottled tom whispered. "It's good to know what death is sooner or later."

"But they're so young!" the pale ginger queen gasped.

"How did he die?" the ginger tom asked. Letting out a groan, his mother looked over at the kit.

"A treacherous cat killed him," Dovetail answered. "It's sad, indeed."

"Will we ever see him again?" Oakkit asked.

"He's always here with us," Mossyfall meowed. "At night, every star you see in Silverpelt represents a warrior of StarClan."

"Wow…" Fawnkit mewed in wonder.

"Then who's the new deputy?" the ginger tom-kit asked.

"This cat right here!" the pale ginger she-cat pointed to Mouseheart, causing the kits to turn their attention to him. "His name is Mouseheart."

"Nice to meet you," the tabby introduced himself.

"He's small," Oakkit commented. His littermates nodded in agreement.

"I know that," he meowed, embarrassed. His gaze went down to the kits. "So, what are your names?"

"Oakkit!" the brown kit squeaked.

"Fawnkit!" the she-kit exclaimed.

"And I'm Flamekit!" the ginger tom exclaimed, puffing out his tiny chest.

Mouseheart let out a purr of delight. "Well, it's nice to be enthusiastic."

"I want to be deputy one day!" Fawnkit mewed.

"No, _I_ will!" Flamekit argued.

"I'm the best kit! I should be deputy!" Oakkit whined.

"Well, you have to work extra hard to be one," the deputy explained.

"We'll work extra hard!" the kits mewed. At their statement, they all started arguing again.

Mossyfall let out a _mrrow_ of laughter. "Well, kits, I have to go. I still have the hunting patrol to do, after all."

"Aww…" Fawnkit whined. "I wish you would stay longer.

"Me too," he agreed. "Perhaps I'll come see you after the patrol."

"Okay!" Flamekit piped. "We'll be waiting!"

"Yes, I'll be waiting, too," Dovetail meowed. "See you later, Mossyfall."

"Goodbye!" Mossyfall padded off, looking for cats to put on the hunting patrol.

"I guess I'll make my leave, too," Mouseheart meowed. "Being the deputy is keeping me on my paws."

"I'm sure it is," the pale ginger queen purred. "Isn't it hard?"

"Yeah." The deputy gave a slight nod. "I never realized how much time and effort came with being the deputy of ThunderClan. And it's only been a _day_!"

"Well, goodbye, Mouseheart." Dovetail looked down at her kits. "Say bye, everyone."

"Bye!" the kits mewed. Giving a small smile, the mangy tom left the area, and decided to go talk to Molestar. Perhaps he could get some insight on how to manage his deputy tasks, or perhaps he had found something new in regards to the mystery revolving around Snowface's murderer. Or maybe he just had more tasks to assign to him. Mouseheart sighed. That would just weigh him down even further.

Just as he reached the entrance to Molestar's den, he heard a voice shout from the hollow below.

"Hey, Mouseheart!" Stormspark called. "We're ready!"

The tabby turned around, looking down at the cats below him. To get a better look, he climbed down to a ledge just above them, and observed who he was taking.

As he expected, the gray tom was in the front of the group, with his apprentice, who had an annoyed expression on his face, next to him. Behind him was a brown tom with a noticeably torn ear, Kestrelshade, a smoky gray tom, Mistnose, and his apprentice, a black-and-brown she-cat named Sootpaw.

"Can we go already?" Kestrelshade asked. "I'm getting impatient."

Wincing at the warriors comment, he gave a slight nod. "Alright," Mouseheart confirmed. "You may go now."

"Thanks!" Signaling for the patrol to follow him, Stormspark left the camp, with the other cats not far behind.

The deputy decided to remain on the ledge for now. He knew that Mossyfall would soon arrive with his patrol, and check in with him in order to leave. He had to take his job more seriously, especially since it was leafbare. The Clan couldn't afford to have no fresh-kill on the pile, and the only solution was to go hunt some more. Sooner or later, cats will go out hunting, and mentors will train their apprentices, even in the bitterness of leafbare.

However, Beesong running off was still in Mouseheart's mind. She had not returned to ThunderClan camp yet, causing worry to rise within the tabby tom. What if something had happened to her? If that was the case, it would all be his fault.

"Mouseheart! I have the patrol all set up!" Mossyfall announced, grabbing the tom's attention.

Looking up at the group of cats, the mottled brown tom was in the middle of two other cats – a gray-and-white she-cat and a cream she-cat, who he immediately recognized as Seedbreeze. A small gasp escaped his mouth, the warm feeling he had around the warrior returning. He shuffled his paws, and tried to focus himself on Mossyfall.

"H-Hey, Seedbreeze," he stuttered.

"Hello," she greeted.

The gray-and-white she-cat let out a frustrated groan. "Mouseheart, I thought you were going to send us off, not talk with your mate," Froststing chided.

"She's not my mate!" he snapped. "We're…" The tom looked around nervously. "We're… just friends," he spat out. _I wish we were more, though._

"Oh sure, you're 'just friends'," she snapped, and rolled her eyes. "You have a hopeless love life."

"It's not hopeless!" he protested.

The cream she-cat gave him a confused looked, but said nothing.

"A-Anyways, you're free to go!" Mouseheart affirmed.

"Thank you," Mossyfall meowed. He looked behind him to the two she-cats. "Come on, you two. Let's go."

"Ugh, fine," Froststing groaned. She started to grumble something intelligible, although the tabby believed it was about him. He watched as the three cats made their way out of the camp, and then returned his attention to the hollow.

Now that both patrols were sent out, he could go talk to Molestar. Taking one final look at the camp, he got up, ready to climb up to the leader's den to talk to the brown-and-cream tom. Stretching, he began to climb up the hollow, to the ThunderClan leader's den. Arriving at the entrance of it, he saw Molestar, standing on the ledge of it. The deputy's arrival caught the tom's attention, and he turned over to look at him.

"Why, hello, Mouseheart," the leader greeted. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

"Yes," he meowed. "…Can we talk about it in your den?"

"Have you sent out the dawn patrol yet?" Molestar questioned.

The light brown tom nodded. "I just did."

"Good, good," he purred. "Yes, we can talk about it." The brown-and-cream tom started to walk into his den, signaling for Mouseheart to come with him.

When they got inside, they sat down, the large tom towering over the deputy. He gulped, nervous about the leader's unwavering gaze.

"So," Molestar started. "What is it that you want to talk to me about?"

"It's just… I don't feel worthy to be the deputy of ThunderClan," Mouseheart admitted.

"Come on, Mouseheart," he consoled. "It's only been a day. I can safely say from experience that not every cat can handle their deputy duties right away."

"Are you sure? Snowface seemed like a natural when he was appointed," the tabby remarked. The black tom had been deputy since Mouseheart was a kit, all those moons ago. He tried to remember who the previous deputy was, but no name popped into his head.

"Well, every cat seems to handle it differently," the leader explained. "I remember when I was appointed deputy by Bramblestar. The first moon I was the deputy, I struggled to keep up with my duties. But afterwards, I managed to pull myself together as I got used to them."

"But I already messed up," Mouseheart cried. "I scared away Beesong, and now Swiftflurry is mad at me."

Molestar's ears perked up in alarm. "Wait, you _scared away Beesong_?"

The tom's ears flattened. "…Yes," he whimpered.

Closing his eyes, he sighed. "I knew something was up when I didn't see Beesong last night or today," he started, "but I did not know that you scared her away." He reopened them, a sharp amber gaze looking down at the small deputy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I…" The tom was at a loss for words. "I… I felt so bad about it, I didn't want anyone to know."

"Hmph." The leader lashed his tail in annoyance. "Is there anything else you never told me?"

"…Before I scared her off, I asked her some questions," he admitted.

"Really?" Molestar raised an eyebrow. "Tell me more."

"Well, for one, I asked her where she last saw Snowface," Mouseheart started.

"What was her answer?" the brown-and-cream cat asked.

He took a moment to remember what Beesong had said. "She said she saw him talking to Pricklepelt before she went to sleep the day before he was killed," he answered.

"Okay… Did you ask her anything else?"

"I asked her where he was found, what she found around his body, and if there were any unusual scents near his body," the tabby listed.

"Well, it seems that the most important question out of all of these is where he was last seen." Molestar lifted his head. "Maybe you could ask if them if they witnessed it."

"Who knows if anyone saw him get killed?" he queried. "It could have been in the middle of the night for all I know."

"I think the question is, _why_ he was hunting at that time," the leader meowed.

"Maybe he couldn't sleep," Mouseheart suggested. "I go out to hunt sometimes when I can't."

"True," he remarked. "But I still have my suspicions."

"I could ask who was guarding the camp that night if they saw anything," the brown tabby tom suggested once more. "…If I knew who was."

Molestar paused before speaking once more. "I think Speckfeather and Aspenspring were on guard duty," the tom remembered. "You could try asking them."

"For now?"

"For now. If you get the chance, you could try to interrogate other cats, too."

"Can't I interrogate you, too?" the deputy asked.

"…Maybe later," the brown-and-cream tom meowed. "I am busy, you know."

"I know…" Mouseheart mumbled. "Maybe the next time we talk, I can question you. How's that?"

"That's fine," he agreed. Flicking his tail, he kept his gaze on the small tom. "Is there anything else?"

The tom shook his head. "No."

Molestar sighed. "Before I let you go, please remember that things _will_ get better, regarding your duties. It takes practice, and practice is what you get every day."

He nodded. "I will, Molestar. I'll try my best to not let you down!"

The leader nodded. "Alright, then. You are dismissed."

"Thank you!" Mouseheart padded out of the leader's den, with the large tom following him out. Taking a look at the camp, he started to climb down to the ledge where he had resided before, and sat there.

He noticed Needlebelly and Waspdust carrying the familiar black-and-white body of Snowface out of the camp, with several cats giving one final look at the body before he would be buried. He hesitated on whenever he should follow them through the snow or not, hoping to get another look at the deputy's body before he was buried.

But he had already gotten one yesterday, while the two elders were rubbing herbs on his body. Sighing, his mind drifted to his most recent conversation with Molestar. Wasn't he supposed to get a punishment? He thought he would, the ThunderClan leader did not seem very happy when he revealed that he had scared Beesong off.

He waited patiently for a patrol to return, the dawn patrol or the hunting patrol. Sighing, it seemed like time had slowed down. He shook his head. Maybe he shouldn't be focused on when the patrol would return, but rather, what was going on the camp. His gaze settled on the hollow in front of him, which had remained largely empty.

He noticed Emberkit struggling to climb up the hollow, even trying to get her sister to help her. On the other end of the camp, Darkblossom was struggling to get back to the nursery, panting as she took each step. Pricklepelt tried her best to help her sister, the two cats being almost identical. Mouseheart sighed. There wasn't even much going on _in_ the camp. Seeing how Emberkit continuously failed to climb the hollow, Mouseheart padded over to the dark gray she-kit.

"Need help?" he offered. The two kits looked up at him, with confused expressions.

"I want to get to Ravendusk's den," Emberkit whined. "But I can't get up there."

"Neither can I," Flowerkit mewed.

"Do you both want to go see her?" the deputy asked.

"Only Emberkit does," the blue-eyed kit explained. "I think healing cats is _boring_!"

"But you get to help cats!" the she-kit with amber eyes argued. "Plus, I don't want to fight!"

Mouseheart purred in delight. "Well, Emberkit, do you want to go see her?"

"Yes! Will you take me there?" the dark gray kit squeaked.

"Sure." Grabbing Emberkit's scruff, the small tom started to climb up to the medicine cat's den, granting the kit's wish. He might as well ask Ravendusk if she had received a sign from StarClan, anyways.

"Bye Flowerkit!" Emberkit mewed.

"Bye!" Flowerkit called.

As they climbed up the slope, Mouseheart made sure to keep a lookout for any returning patrols. He never knew whenever they would come back, but usually during them, he was doing other things. Now, he had nothing to do.

Placing Emberkit down on the ledge leading to the medicine cat's den, she immediately ran inside, leading to a sigh from the deputy. He padded into the den, looking around for the black-and-white medicine cat.

The dark gray she-kit had immediately ran up to Ravendusk, swishing her tail in excitement. The medicine cat's amber eyes laid an unamused gaze on the kit, saying nothing about the matter.

"Ravendusk?" he called. "Do you mind if I talk to you?"

"About what?" the black-and-white cat asked. "I don't want to waste my time right now."

"I just wanted to ask you a question," Mouseheart replied. "That's all."

She huffed. "Fine, but make it quick."

"Have you received something from StarClan recently? Like a prophecy… or sign?" the deputy asked.

"No," she answered simply. "Why do you ask?"

The tom hesitated, looking for an answer he could give the medicine cat. "…I was just wondering."

Ravendusk closed her eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. "You can't just keep coming to me and asking me pointless questions. I have work to do."

"Can I help?" Emberkit asked.

The she-cat looked to Nettlepaw, who was lying on a nest of moss, lethargic, and then back to the dark gray kit. "I don't see anything you could do right now. I just need to make sure Nettlepaw does not start throwing up again. …Or start complaining that he has another bellyache."

Emberkit walked up to the silver-gray tom, and looked back at Ravendusk. "He seems fine."

"He does look fine right now, but the moment he starts complaining again, I have to treat it," the medicine cat meowed.

"Well, I want to become a medicine cat like you!" she squeaked. "But there's nothing to help out with."

Ravendusk remained silent. "Well, it's good to have ambitions," she remarked. "But trust me, being a medicine cat takes just as much work as being a warrior."

"How do you know?" Emberkit asked.

"I used to be a warrior once," she started. "However, I never felt like I was meant to be one, even after I became a warrior. When the old medicine cat received a sign from StarClan, he made me his apprentice, and I have been a medicine cat ever since."

"That's cool," the dark gray she-kit mewed. "But I still want to be a medicine cat right away!"

"You need training before you can become a full medicine cat, young one," Ravendusk meowed.

Emberkit frowned. "Can I still help you, though?"

"Yes, although you won't be-"

"We're back!" a voice interrupted Ravendusk's speech. "And look who we found!"

 _I should leave, now,_ Mouseheart thought. Padding out of the medicine cat's den, he looked at the entrance of the camp. Stormspark and his patrol moved out of the way, revealing a pale gray she-cat with a fresh wound on her cheek, blood rolling down it. At the sight of her, the deputy let out a small gasp once he realized who it was.

 _Beesong!_

* * *

 **A/N: Ugh, sorry this came out a day later than it was supposed to, procrasination got the best of me. But luckily, I remembered and spent hours trying to finish it, and I did, even if it did come a day late. So, hooray for Beesong's return, anyone? We're going to see more interaction between her and Mouseheart in the next chapter, dealing with the aftermath of their argument. Even though there's not much detective work in this chapter, the suspense revolving around the mystery is present, and the consequences of Mouseheart's previous actions are catching up to him. And once again, this turned out longer that I thought it would x.x. But that is a good thing! Either way, Branchwing, out!**


	5. Chapter 4

Among the murmurs of his Clanmates, Mouseheart pushed his way through the crowd to see the patrol.

"What happened to her?" the tom asked.

"We saw her with rogues," Mistnose meowed. "So we tried to drive them out."

"And Sootpaw _scratched_ me!" Beesong complained. "I don't know what she was thinking, but she _scratched_ me!"

"I didn't even mean to!" Sootpaw snapped. "I was going to hit that gray rogue, but _you_ got in the way!"

"Or did you, now?" the pale gray she-cat sneered. "You're crazier than a fox in a fit for doing that!"

The black-and-brown apprentice's mouth drew back in a snarl. "You're the crazy one! You have bees in your brain!"

"Well, that's a load of badger droppings," the warrior hissed.

"Stop, stop!" Stormspark yowled. "We should be glad we found her, even!" He put his tail in between the two she-cats, and then glanced up at the deputy. "Besides, we have something to report to you, Mouseheart!"

"Other than you found Beesong?" the tabby questioned.

The warrior nodded, and Mistnose pushed his way towards him. "We saw some rogues near that twoleg nest," the smoky gray tom explained. "Beesong was with them."

 _I hope one of them wasn't that rogue I saw yesterday,_ Mouseheart hoped. _I don't want to lure him to our camp!_

"We think they were trying to steal some prey!" Stormspark exclaimed. "Because, well, I saw a white one catch a mouse in our territory!"

"Yikes…" he meowed. "I saw a gray tom I didn't recognize on the dusk patrol last night, too."

"Was he a tabby, too?" Mistnose asked. The deputy nodded in response.

"That's probably the one I was trying to attack!" Sootpaw realized.

"He was with the white cat," Mistnose added.

"Well, Beesong, who are they?" Kestrelshade pressed. "You better not be thinking about betraying ThunderClan."

"I'm not!" the she-cat burst out. She went silent momentarily before answering the tom's other question. "I don't know them," she uttered. "They claimed I was sleeping at their nest, so I begged them not to hurt me."

"And you actually convinced them?" Mouseheart raised an eyebrow. "Sounds suspicious to me."

"I swear I'm telling the truth!" Beesong claimed. "Anyways, they escorted me back to ThunderClan territory. But then the patrol found me!"

"We thought they were stealing prey," Stormspark meowed. "We asked them to leave, but one of them attacked us!"

"They must have had bees in their brains to go attack us," the dark brown tom commented. "We clearly outnumbered them, yet the two rogues kept fighting."

"We had no choice but to fight back," the smoky gray cat explained.

"And that's when Beesong jumped in the way of the tabby rogue when I was trying to scratch him," Sootpaw concluded. "After some more fighting, they retreated, leaving Beesong with us."

Despite questioning the validity of the story, especially the young warrior's side of the story, the deputy gave a nod to the patrol. "Okay. Is that all you have to report?"

Stormspark shook his head. "The water was red near the lake shore. I don't know if you saw that or not last night."

"I did, but thanks for reminding me," the tom meowed. "I think it has to do with Snowface's murder."

"You think so?" Mistnose questioned.

"I do," he answered. "I can't see any other explanation to that."

All of the cats looked at each other, and then back at the tabby. They gave a slight nod, unsure of what else to say.

"Anything else you want to tell me?" he asked.

"No," Stormspark simply mewed. "There wasn't anything else that was suspicious."

"That's a good sign," Mouseheart meowed. "It's just the rogues we have to worry about."

"Right!"

"Can I go back to the warriors' den now?" Kestrelshade asked. "I'm tired of standing here."

The brown tom blinked a few times, and nodded. "…I guess you can, if there's nothing else to report."

"Alright, thank you." The brown tom slinked past the group of cats barricading the entrance of the camp, going out of sight.

Mouseheart's eyes then drifted over to the scratch on the gray she-cat's cheek. "You might want to see Ravendusk for that," he suggested.

"Nah," Beesong replied. "I'll be fine."

"But it's still bleeding!" Sootpaw hissed. "Are you really okay with that?!"

"No need to get hostile," Mistnose lectured, silencing the brown-and-black she-cat with his tail. "But she is right, Beesong. You should see Ravendusk before it gets infected."

"But what if I don't want to?" the she-cat argued.

"Do you care for your health?" Sootpaw fired back.

The pale gray warrior shrugged. "Unless I'm dying, then not really," she replied.

"Are you sure?" the smoky tom questioned. "Infected wounds can get ugly."

Beesong blinked, but said nothing. Even then, she still did not move. Something told the deputy that he would have to tell the warrior himself.

"You really should go and get that checked," Mouseheart meowed. "Infected wounds can be deadly."

Beesong flattened her ears when struck with the realization.

"I could die?" she mewed.

The tom nodded. "Trust me, it's happened before."

The gray she-cat slowly nodded. "…I'll go there."

"Good," Mistnose muttered.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" Mouseheart asked.

"Just a few scratches," the smoky gray tom meowed, and turned slightly, revealing a small, but fresh wound on his flank. "I'll be fine."

"My ear hurts," Sootpaw complained. The brown tabby tom's eyes widened, noticing the apprentice's ear bleeding, a part of it missing. He had been so caught up with learning what happened that he hadn't noticed the young she-cat's wound.

"Weaselpaw didn't get hurt," the warrior leading the patrol commented. "…He didn't really fight, to be honest. He just kind of stood there."

"It's called 'self-defense'," the brown tom protested. "It's a good method."

The solid gray tom sighed. "You're training to be a _warrior_ , Weaselpaw! You have to fight sooner or later!"

"What if I don't want to?" the apprenticed talked back.

"Look, Weaselpaw, I've been very lenient with you, but I can report you to Molestar," Stormspark threatened. Mouseheart tensed. His friend had to be truly ticked off with something to become that serious.

The tom rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll fight next time."

"Great!" he meowed, the tom instantly perking up again. The deputy relaxed, glad that more fights would not break out today. "Trust me, we don't want your battle training to go to waste."

"Is that all?" the pale tabby tom asked.

"I think so," the warrior meowed. "I'm fine." He looked over at the other cats present, and they nodded in agreement.

He nodded. "Alright. Make sure to go see Ravendusk."

"We will," Mistnose promised, and gave a small smile.

"Well, we're done here," Stormspark meowed. He started to walk out the camp, and looked back at his apprentice. "Come on, Weaselpaw, we should go train now."

"Can't I take a break?" the brown apprentice groaned.

"Your apprentice training is very important," the gray tom explained. "Without it, you won't become a warrior!"

"But I'm tired," Weaselpaw complained.

"You can sleep later," he meowed. "Now, let's go." Before doing so, Stormspark lifted his head. "Bye, guys!"

"Bye." Mouseheart watched as the two toms padded out of the camp once more, into the dense forest dappled with snow. It had been a few days since it had last snowed, and it had begun to melt ever-so-slightly under the sun. Even then, the air was still bitter, with the cold affecting everyone.

As the cats on the patrol went their separate ways, the light brown tabby made sure that the young she-cat was going to the medicine cat's den. Once he saw her disappear into the den, he let out a sigh of relief, and looked around for Molestar.

He was not surprised to spot him climbing down to the clearing of the camp, heading towards Mouseheart himself. As some of his Clanmates watch his descent in curiosity, the brown-and-cream tom dismissed them with a flick of the tail, although not all cats stopped watching. He padded up to the tabby, amber eyes gazing down at the small cat.

"I see that the border patrol has returned," he meowed. "With Beesong, too."

"Right," Mouseheart confirmed.

"So, tell me," the leader started. "What did they report?"

The tom looked around nervously, his pelt getting hot in the bitterness of the cold. He knew that some cats were watching them, but here was not the place to discuss the border patrol. "Can we… go in your den? It's a little awkward to tell you out here."

Molestar blinked, and gave a slight nod. "Of course." The large cat turned around, signaling for the deputy to follow him. The two cats climbed back up to the leader's den, and they slinked inside. The larger tom held his tail up, telling Mouseheart to stop. He turned around in the tight space and sat down, lowering his tail for the light brown tom to do so, too.

"Now," the leader started, "You may talk."

"Well… Stormspark and his patrol found Beesong with some rogues, from what I have been told," Mouseheart started. "The patrol attacked the rogues because they would not leave, and Sootpaw accidently hurt Beesong in the process."

Molestar paused, and then asked, "Was anyone else hurt?"

He nodded. "I know Sootpaw and Mistnose got hurt. I'm not sure about Stormspark and Kestrelshade, though."

"Okay… Did they spot anything else suspicious?" the tom asked.

"No," the smaller cat replied. "If they did, they didn't tell me."

The brown-and-cream tom closed his eyes, and nodded. "I see. You are dismissed, Mouseheart."

"Thanks." The deputy padded out of the leader's den, and Molestar followed. Climbing down to the bottom of the clearing, the tabby thought about what to do next. Perhaps he could go hunting?

As he reached the clearing, his eyes drifted towards the exit of the camp. It would not take long, he supposed. Another thought came into his head. He could organize another hunting patrol. He shook his head.

 _Mossyfall and his patrol are already out there,_ he thought. _I'm sure they'll come back with some fresh-kill._ He glanced over at the sparse fresh-kill pile, only having a single mouse on it. _Then again… It_ is _the middle of leafbare. Maybe hunting will take my mind off of things._

He twitched his ear, and started to head out of the camp to go hunting. As the snow touched his paw pads, he shivered, it being cold to the touch. Never less, he headed off into the forest, letting the bitter air touch his pelt. Through the trees, he could see the gray sky over the horizon, no sun in sight. The snow crunched underneath his weight, and he sniffed the air, trying to catch the scent of prey.

He could definitely smell ThunderClan cats. There always is the scent of his own Clan in the forest. It seemed strong today, a sign that told him that some cats were nearby. He walked slowly, trying to pick up the scent of a mouse or the like. He kept himself alert in case he would encounter something unfavorable.

Moving throughout the forest, he had trouble picking up the scent of prey. It almost seemed like it was masked by the cold. He passed by the sight of Snowface's death, the snow still stained red. He gave one glance at it, noticing nothing new, and moved on. He shivered. He should head back to the camp soon, but he was determined to catch some fresh-kill.

As he lingered towards the ShadowClan border, he caught the scent of a piece of prey. Not all was calm, though. ShadowClan's scent was present as normal, but something seemed… off. He sniffed the air, and froze. It was an unfamiliar scent, belonging to no Clan the deputy could think of.

 _Could it be that rogue…?_ he wondered. Mouseheart felt himself tense up. Even after he thought Stormspark's patrol had taught them a lesson, the rogues still trespassed ThunderClan territory. He badly wanted to investigate, but he also had a Clan to serve. Plus, he still had Snowface's death to investigate.

A risky thought coming into his head, he started to follow the scent of the rogue. He could not see any unfamiliar cat at the moment, but he knew that soon, he would. The scent got stronger and stronger, mingled in with the scent of a mouse. Mouseheart's ears flattened at the thought of a rogue hunting on ThunderClan territory.

Soon enough, a gray figure started to become visible in the distance, the scent becoming particularly strong now. Instinctively, the tabby crouched, and started to sneak up on the figure. As he got closer and closer, he began to recognize who it was – the rogue he had seen just yesterday, albeit slightly wounded. He felt his pelt prickle with aggression. He stopped near a shrub, preparing to leap onto the rogue. However, he hesitated, reconsidering if this was a good idea.

Mouseheart frowned when another cat appeared from behind a tree. It was a white tom, with scars all over one of his eyes, as well as a few fresh wounds on his sides. The pupil within his single, amber eye became a slit, the deputy feeling his piercing gaze through him. The brown tabby tom froze, feeling intimidated.

"Twist," the white tom snarled, his voice low and scratchy. "We're being watched."

"We are, now?" the gray tabby rogue questioned. His ears flattened in aggression as he turned around, and noticed the small tom. He grunted, baring his fangs at Mouseheart. "This little kit is watching us? Pathetic."

The deputy gulped. "I-I'm a full-grown cat, thank you very much!" He tried to hide his nervousness, hoping that the rogues would not notice.

"I know," he growled. "But you're _tiny_."

Mouseheart's nervousness quickly turned into annoyance. "I-I'm not afraid to fight you!"

"Trust me," the white tom meowed. "You won't last a chance against us. Besides, you're outnumbered."

The tabby took a step backwards.

"Backing down?" Twist questioned. He unsheathed his claws. "I'm assuming you're part of that 'ThunderClan'?"

The tom remained silent, trying his best to keep calm.

"No answer?" the gray rogue meowed. "Fine." Raising a paw, he dug his claws into Mouseheart's shoulder, and started to slowly rake it across his shoulder, while the tom let out a short yowl of pain. He stumbled back, and the rogue released his grip just before he reached the ThunderClan deputy's throat. He felt the sting of pain on his shoulder, scarlet blood dripping onto the snow beside him.

Trembling, the tabby tom watched as Twist looked at his own blood-covered claws, then setting it down onto the snow. Yellow eyes drifted down to Mouseheart, and he scowled.

"You're not even going to fight back? What a coward," he scoffed. He turned to face the white tom with a missing eye. "Come on, White. Let's go." He padded over to a dead mouse, and picked it up.

White glanced down at the small cat. "Tell your ThunderClan friends not to mess with us."

"You're hunting on our territory!" the tabby snapped. "You have no right to do that!"

"We don't care," the rogue hissed. "We will hunt on this land whenever you like it or not." He turned around. "Now, goodbye."

The two rogues turned around, heading out of ThunderClan territory. Mouseheart didn't take the time to ponder further on their encounter, he immediately turned around, limping, but determined to reach the camp before he passed out or something.

He struggled to stay on his paws, the pain burning throughout his leg. The pain only intensified because of the bitter cold, further haltering his trek through the forest. Soon enough, he could not go on any further. He laid down, licking his wound. It felt a little better, but now he had the warm, bitter taste of blood in his mouth. He curled up, and started to mew helplessly, like he was an abandoned kit.

 _Am I going to die?_ he wondered. He bit his tongue. _Please, StarClan, spare me…_

Shivering, he tried to get warm. He continued mewing, hoping someone would hear him and take him back to ThunderClan camp.

After what seemed like forever, he finally spotted a black she-cat with prickly fur, ThunderClan scent radiating off of her. Searching his mind on who it could be, he quickly realized who it was. His hopes lifted. He would be saved!

"Pricklepelt!" he called, trying to catch the she-cat's attention. The warrior stopped, and another cat, a gray tabby tom, emerged from behind her. The two warriors glanced at each other, and Mouseheart was soon met with the gaze of two pairs of blue eyes. With that, the deputy realized who the other cat was. "Icefoot!"

"Mouseheart?" Icefoot shouted, a puzzled look coming across his face. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Come over here!"

His Clanmates exchanged glances once more. Pricklepelt shrugged, and the two cats dashed over to the injured tabby tom.

"What?" Pricklepelt demanded. "Why are you on the ground?"

"I encountered some rogues while I was hunting," he explained. "One of them hurt me." He moved his head, uncovering his injured shoulder, and the sting of the frosty air began to worsen the pain once again.

"Who?" the she-cat immediately questioned, her eyes narrowing.

"…The gray one we saw on the border patrol yesterday," Mouseheart admitted. "I think Stormspark's patrol saw him today, too."

"Kestrelshade told me that they fought some rogues on that patrol," she revealed. "Are you sure those are the ones you saw?"

"W-Well, I wouldn't doubt Stormspark's words. I trust him," the deputy meowed. Prickepelt blinked, but said no more.

In the corner of his eye, the tom saw Icefoot wince at the sight of his former mentor's wound. "…That looks serious." The black she-cat beside him nodded in agreement. "We need to get you back home right now."

Pricklepelt grabbed the small tom's scruff and began to slowly drag him through the woods, trying to avoid anything that could snag them and halt them. Icefoot followed closely behind, looking for any threats. Mouseheart was anxious to get back to the camp, worrying that his wound could get infected. He thought back to one of his old friends, who had died from an infected wound moons ago. A pang of sadness went throughout his body at that thought, and he let out a sorrowful sigh.

Once they had reached the camp, the large she-cat squeezed through the brambles, carrying the deputy with her. Mouseheart felt watched, but he did not bother to pay attention to his Clanmates right now. Comforted by the familiar scents, he looked up at the cat running up to them.

"Mouseheart!" Aspenspring cried. Her blue eyes drifted down to the shivering deputy's wound, filled with concern, but also worry. "What happened to him?!"

"He was attacked by a rogue," Icefoot replied, emerging from behind the two cats. "We found him not far from the camp."

The pale tabby cat lowered her head, and licked her son's head, causing him to close his eyes. "You were lucky they were there to help you," she meowed. "I can't even imagine what could have happened to you."

Mouseheart's pelt burned with embarrassment. But she was right. He was worried about his own demise back in the forest.

The warrior lifted her head. "You should go to Ravendusk's den," Aspenspring suggested. "That is a nasty wound."

"She's right," Icefoot meowed, looking at the deputy. "You should go."

The light brown tom nodded, and looked up at Pricklepelt. "I think I can walk on my own there."

The warrior did not let go. "I don't want to take any chances." She carried the tom over to the medicine cat's den, and once they had gotten on the ledge that allowed them to enter, she placed him on the stone. "You can go on from here."

"Thanks," Mouseheart meowed, getting on his paws.

"No problem." The black she-cat sat down, and watched as the deputy limped into the medicine cat's den, where a few other cats were staying.

Beesong, who had a few cobwebs on her cheek, was the first to notice the tom's arrival, and let out a small gasp.

"Mouseheart!" she exclaimed. "What happened to you?!"

Ravendusk jerked, her fur spiking up a little bit. She turned her head to look at the new arrival. Emberkit, who was playing with a leaf, paused, and padded up to the deputy, with the medicine cat watching her.

"What happened to your shoulder?" the kit asked. The black-and-white she-cat in the background muttered something, and then got up to join Emberkit.

"Yes, what happened?" Ravendusk asked, sounding tired.

"I-I was attacked by rogues," he replied. "One of them gave me this wound."

The medicine cat sighed. "Great, another cat to treat," she muttered, barely audible. Mouseheart decided not to comment on it. "Lie down here," she commanded, her tail lowering near an empty nest. He limped over to it, and lay down on his side, green eyes drifting up to the medicine cat. "Good," she meowed.

"Can I help?" Emberkit squeaked, excited.

Ravendusk sighed. "This is for me to do, but since you're here…" She looked behind her. "Could you grab some goldenrod?"

"It's a yellow flower, right?" the gray she-kit asked.

The black-and-white cat nodded, and the kit stumbled over to the herb piles, looking around for goldenrod. Several heartbeats later, she came back holding a few tall, yellow plants in her mouth, and set them down next to the aging she-cat.

"Is this it?" Emberkit asked.

"Yes," she meowed. "Thank you." Taking one of the goldenrods, she began to chew it, while the she-kit watched curiously. She then spat it out, applying the newly-made poultice on Mouseheart's wound.

"I need some marigold now, Emberkit," Ravendusk meowed. "It's also yellow, but it's not as tall as goldenrod plants."

"Got it!" Mouseheart watched as the she-kit disappeared into the herb piles again, and returned holding some other yellow plants. "Here it is!"

"You're good at this," the medicine cat commented. Taking a few leaves off of the marigold plants, she chewed them into another poultice, where she then applied it to the wound. Mouseheart let out a sigh of relief, the pain was slowly fading away.

"I need cobwebs now," the she-cat commanded. Giving just a nod now, Emberkit disappeared once more, bringing back a bundle of cobwebs.

"Is this enough?" she asked, her meow muffled by the mass of cobwebs.

"That's plenty, Emberkit." The dark gray kit dropped the bundle of cobwebs next to Ravendusk once more, where she pressed some of them onto the deputy's wound. "There, now, rest."

She backed away from the tom, and Mouseheart simply blinked in response. He glanced over at his newly-dressed wound; the bleeding was starting to fade, although the cobwebs were already starting to tint red. He then looked around, mainly trying to figure out who else was in the den. He noticed Beesong's yellow eyes staring at him, as well as Nettlepaw, who was more aware now. Mistnose, who had cobwebs scattered on his body, was stretching, preparing to leave. His apprentice, who was lying down next to him, had remains of a poultice on her ear.

He then looked around for where the medicine cat had stored the dark tuft of fur he had given her last night. Soon enough, he found it, sitting near one of Ravendusk's various herb piles. He let out a sigh of relief, glad that she had not done anything with it. Not thinking of what else he could do, he just laid in the nest, still troubled by the rogues' hostility and his recent injury.

"You should chew these," the medicine cat meowed, passing him a cluster of small, black seeds. "They'll help you ease your pain."

Mouseheart decided to chew on some of the seeds, hoping what the black-and-white she-cat said was true. Shortly after, he spat them out, expecting something to happen.

"Good," the she-cat meowed. "Is it working?"

The deputy simply blinked, and after a few more heartbeats, nodded. The pain was slowly starting to fade away, but he was also getting a little drowsy. With a single nod, she headed over to Beesong, and started to talk to her instead.

 _I guess that's all she has for me,_ the deputy thought, watching the two cats briefly. He then started to stare into the distance, wondering what would happen next.

* * *

"You're free to go," Ravendusk meowed to the gray warrior, whose wound had closed up, although still dressed in a few cobwebs, just in case. It had been a few sunrises since the devastating attack from the rogues. Mouseheart had been in the den for a while now, getting the chance to walk around the camp just today. His own wound was healing steadily, although it was clear it would take a long time for it to fully heal.

"Thank you!" Beesong chimed.

"You should still be careful while that is healing, though," the medicine cat meowed. "It could open up again."

"It's on my face! I'll be fine," the warrior reassured, although the deputy questioned if that was the case. He was no medicine cat, but knowing Beesong, he knew something bad was bound to happen.

"Still," the black-and-white cat affirmed. "You should only come back here so I can redress your wound, not treat it again."

The she-cat nodded, and then left the medicine cat's den. Soon enough, a tortoiseshell she-cat hopped into the den on three paws. One was raised, although Mouseheart didn't know why.

"Swiftflurry," Ravendusk meowed. "Are your pads cracking again?"

The she-cat shook her head. "I think I stepped on a thorn," she explained.

"Let me see," the medicine cat commanded, and the warrior laid down, and stretched her leg. Examining her paw pad, Ravendusk nodded. "Oh, it's a thorn, alright. Hold still." The she-cat then got a grip on a thorn Mouseheart could not see, and pull it out. He saw Swiftflurry wince in pain a little bit, but she made no further move.

"There, it is out," she meowed. "You're free to go. Just be more careful next time."

"Thank you," the tortoiseshell she-cat thanked. She glanced at the injured deputy briefly before heading out of the medicine cat's den.

Ravendusk turned to Mouseheart, and sat down to watch him. The tabby frowned, knowing that he would be with her for the next few days. He had to admit, he did not like the black-and-white she-cat that much, especially now. The she-cat had always been a little distant, but now, she seemed a little detached, often mumbling to herself during the nights. He could never make out what she was saying, but perhaps it would best not to know.

He felt like he had a lump in his throat. He desperately wanted to go out and do something, but he knew that the medicine cat would object to it. It wasn't worth trying.

He saw his mother come into the medicine cat's den, looking around for the she-cat. She lifted her head, facing Aspenspring.

"What do you need?" Ravendusk asked, confused.

"I wanted to know how Mouseheart's doing," the tabby she-cat replied. "Is he okay?"

"He'll live," she answered bluntly.

"I feel fine," the deputy meowed. "I can go out." He heaved himself onto his paws, but his wound started to sting a little bit, causing him to wince a little bit.

"No, you can't," the black she-cat snapped, and gestured for him to sit down. "It might open up again."

Aspenspring shook her head. "He's been in here a few days. It'll be alright to-"

"Don't question me!" Ravendusk interrupted the warrior, hostility creeping into her voice. "I know what I'm doing, and I'm keeping him safe."

"I hate to interrupt, but Aspenspring's right," a new voice chimed in. Pushing past the pale tabby was a flecked white tom, who Mouseheart recognized as Speckfeather. "Keeping him in here won't help him. ThunderClan needs their deputy."

The medicine cat blinked in surprise, and there was a few heartbeats of silence before any cat spoke more. "I-I'm still a medicine cat," she sputtered out. "You should listen to me."

"That doesn't mean we _have_ to," Aspenspring threatened. "Plus, you're outnumbered."

Ravendusk's ears flattened in anger. "Fine," she stated. "I'll let him go… after I redress his wound."

 _Finally!_ Mouseheart exclaimed silently. Getting up, he limped over to the black-and-white cat so she could redress his wound, like she had said. The medicine cat grabbed some cobwebs and marigold plants, and began to redress the tom's wound, while Speckfeather and Aspenspring watched.

After the cobwebs on the deputy's shoulder wound was fresh, he nodded in respect towards the medicine cat, and padded out of her den with the two warriors. Some cats looked up towards them, but made no further comment.

Once she saw Mouseheart, Beesong swallowed the last piece of magpie she was eating, and bounded over to the three cats.

"Mouseheart!" she exclaimed. "You're back!"

The light brown tom nodded. "They convinced Ravendusk to let me go," he meowed, exchanging glances with Aspenspring and Speckfeather.

"That's great," the gray she-cat meowed. "How about it, we were released on the same day, and now-"

"Wait a minute, Beesong," Speckfeather interrupted. "He still needs to be careful when he's out in the forest." The white tom looked over at Mouseheart. "It's for the best if you don't go hunting for a few days."

"Right," the deputy affirmed. "I still have patrols to send out, and from there I have to report back to Molestar."

"Looks like you're getting the hang of this," Aspenspring encouraged, giving a small smile. "Snowface would be proud of you."

 _I guess she's right,_ the brown tabby tom thought in satisfaction. _But that doesn't make up for the mistakes I've done in the past few days._

He looked up at Beesong, feeling pity for the young she-cat. He didn't want to think of what had happened while she was out of the territory, but the fact that he had not apologized to her yet made it worse.

However, he now had a chance to. "Look, Beesong…" he started. The light gray she-cat's ears perked up in interest. "…I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day. I didn't mean to; I just… snapped."

One of the warrior's ears twitched. "It's fine," she meowed. "I got over it while I was in Ravendusk's den with you. I was sure that you didn't mean it. And now that I know, it's alright now."

Mouseheart let out a sigh. "I guess I should tell you why I was asking you those questions."

"You were questioning her?" Speckfeather meowed, perplexed. "What for?"

"You see…" The deputy shifted his paws uncomfortably. "Molestar asked me to investigate Snowface's murder."

"That's cool," Beesong meowed. "Have you found anything about it so far?"

"I've found a few clues, but for all I know, the suspect has black fur," he admitted. "I've haven't found anything else."

"I remember Ravendusk leaving the camp for a little bit the day Snowface died," Aspenspring chimed in. "She said she had to collect some herbs."

"I don't think it would be her," Speckfeather admitted. "Why in the name of StarClan would a _medicine cat_ kill? It just doesn't make sense."

The pale tabby she-cat turned to the younger she-cat. "You went out hunting too, I think," she added.

Mouseheart saw the warrior tense, as if every hair on her body was standing on end.

 _Could she…?_ The deputy shook the thought away. _No,_ he affirmed himself. _She just went out hunting._

"Did you see anyone else leave the camp?" he asked the two senior warriors.

The two cats exchanged glances before returning their gaze onto the tabby tom.

"I think there was," his mother admitted. "I don't remember who, though."

"Neither can I," the flecked tom added, and heaved out a sigh. "I'm afraid you're stuck for now."

"Thank you," the tom meowed. "I'll need any help I can get." He started to limp over to the ledges that allowed him to climb up to the leader's den. "I should go talk to Molestar now," he called to the other cats.

"Okay," Beesong meowed. "Bye!"

"I understand," Aspenspring meowed. "I'll see you later."

"Farewell," Speckfeather meowed.

The deputy gulped, and started to slowly make his way up the hollow, being careful with his footing. The thoughts of their recent conversation lingered in his mind, and although he had dismissed it earlier, a feeling of dread still loomed over the small tom.

 _Could Beesong really have murdered Snowface?_

* * *

 **A/N: I apologize for the long wait; it was supposed to go up yesterday, but fanfiction wouldn't let me upload the document :L. I blame school and procrastination as well. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter! I'm not really sure how to feel about it myself. For one, I like how the beginning of the chapter went, but as I got further along, I felt like it started to drag on, so I guess I rushed the ending. Regardless, here's a quick question - who's your favorite character so far? Who do you want to see more of? Either way, Branchwing, out!**


	6. Chapter 5

Mouseheart made his way up to the top ledge, where the brown-and-cream leader resided, watching over his Clan's activities. The deputy was aware that Stemtail had taken care of organizing patrols for him while he was resting in the medicine cat's den. He had seemed like a natural at doing so, too, a talent the mangy tom wished he had.

 _He should have been made deputy,_ he thought with envy. _He's much better than I am. He would have figured out who murdered Snowface in no time at all!_

The tom pushed away the thought for now. It was the time to talk to the ThunderClan leader, not think about his Clanmates' actions. Even then, he was worried about what the large tom would think of him.

Mouseheart approached Molestar, who then turned to him with surprised amber eyes.

"Oh! Mouseheart!" he gasped. "I didn't realize Ravendusk let you go."

He gave a small smile. "She did. And I'm grateful."

"That's good to hear," the brown-and-cream tom meowed, giving a nod towards his deputy. "But you still have to be careful."

The mangy cat let out a groan. "I know, I know, but I have duties to get to."

Molestar nodded, and Mouseheart decide that meant to actually do his duties to serve the Clan. If he had to be honest, he was a little nervous returning to his position as ThunderClan's deputy. He could screw up again, or even worse, accidently bring the rogues back into their territory. The possibilities were endless as his head swarmed with worries of what could happen.

"That being said, there are hunting patrols you could organize," the ginormous tom commented. He flicked his tail, dismissing the small tom.

"Wait!" the brown tabby chimed, remembering why he had come to talk to the ThunderClan leader. "I have an update on Snowface's murderer!"

Molestar paused, as if he was thinking. Tilting his head, he perplexed, "You do, now?" His tired amber eyes narrowed, focusing on the cat in front of him. Intimidation seeped through the light brown tom like water.

"Yeah, I-I do," he meowed. "I have an idea on who it could be."

The leader gave a glance down at the camp below, and then back to Mouseheart. Gesturing towards his den, the aged tom huddled into the small cave, and the youthful tom followed. In the all-too-familiar dimly lit nest, eyes of green and amber seemed to glow in the darkness. One was wide, the other narrowed.

"Tell me, Mouseheart," the brown-and-cream tom grimaced. "Who do you think killed Snowface?"

"W-Well," the tom started, clearly nervous. "It could be Beesong. The two guards the night he was killed mentioned her leaving the camp to go hunting." In reality, he hoped it was not her. She did not seem like the cat who would kill someone for no particular reason, despite how much the warrior annoyed him.

 _But then again,_ he thought, _anyone who left the camp that day is a suspect._

"Did they see her come back with anything?" Molestar pressed.

"I don't know," the deputy admitted. "I never asked."

"Hmph." The old leader closed his eyes, as if he was lost in thought. Some heartbeats later, he reopened them, and then muttered, "It would make sense if she did kill him."

Mouseheart's pelt started to grow hot, and then he argued in a hushed tone, just loud enough for the brown-and-cream tom to hear, "She was raised in this Clan!"

"I know," the large tom meowed, "but her mother was not."

The den went silent at his statement, and the ThunderClan deputy started thinking. _He's right,_ he told himself. _Beesong's mother wasn't born in the Clans._ He frowned. _And no one knows who her father was…_

* * *

 _The young warrior strolled along the edges of the ThunderClan border, trees stretching above him, the warm sunlight hitting his pelt. It was greenleaf, and prey was abundant everywhere. However, he was not hunting today. Instead, Mouseheart had decided to take a walk to relieve himself of his recent stress. It felt great being a warrior now. He didn't have to do apprentice duties, and his mentor did not press him day and night to go out training. …Especially battle training._

 _He shivered. He hated, or more accurately, scared of, fighting; he didn't understand why the Clans couldn't just resolve conflicts peacefully. Besides, his father's dead body had traumatized him for moons now, in that fateful battle that pretty much changed his life forever. The memory haunted his dreams, almost like he was reliving it. He didn't know why this memory kept replaying in his mind… maybe StarClan was trying to tell him something?_

 _All of a sudden, something caught the tabby tom's attention. His ears perked up in interest, and he strained to hear the sound. It was so faint, he could hardly make out what it was. Nevertheless, the warrior kept walking, trying to ignore this sound. However, as he neared it, it kept getting louder… and louder. Dread started to seep into his pelt. It almost sounded like… a kit mewling._

 _All of a sudden, he caught a glimpse of silver fur, hidden within the trees. He gasped, the scent of blood and unfamiliar cats invading him. Pushing through the bushes and brambles, he decided to investigate._

 _At last, he arrived to find a silver tabby she-cat, covered in wounds from head to tail. Her scarlet blood glistened as she labored out each breath, struggling for life. Mouseheart stared at her in horror. What kind of fox-heart would do this to her? She opened her glossy yellow eyes, which now focused in the small cat in front of her._

 _"…W-Who…" she croaked, and she was then interrupted by a coughing spasm, with the red liquid spluttering out in front of her. "…are… you…?"_

 _Horrified at what he saw, it took a few moments for the brown tabby to conjure a response. "M-Mouseheart," he stammered, anxiety swelling within him. "I'm a warrior of ThunderClan."_

 _"ThunderClan…" the strange she-cat moaned, as if she was pondering on the name. "I-I've heard of that name…"_

 _The warrior then noticed that at her belly was a small, fluffy she-kit, having black stripes on her tail, similar to that of the silver she-cat. Her mews were stopped when she heard the tom's voice, and she looked up at him with wide, but scared, eyes. Her gray pelt was somewhat stained by the blood of the loner, and Mouseheart couldn't help but feel bad for the kit._

 _His green eyes glanced back at the frail she-cat, his eyes being filled with worry. "Is she…" he started in awe of what had happened to her._

 _"…My kit?" the loner finished in a weak voice. "…Y-Yes."_

 _The tiny gray kit padded up to the ThunderClan warrior, and in a small mew, asked, "Is mama going to be okay?" Her delicate ears flattened, and her tail drooped low._

 _The light brown tabby tom shook his head. "…I'm afraid not."_

 _"Why?" she mewed, clearly discouraged by the tom's statement._

 _Looking over at the kit's mother, her breathing had gotten slower, and she was blinking rather slowly. She forced herself to give a small smile at the ThunderClan warrior._

 _"Mouseheart," she breathed, coughing up another spasm of blood. "…Take her."_

 _The warrior nodded. "I will," he promised. "I will."_

 _"…Thank you…" With the last sentence she uttered, her breathing slowed to a stop as her yellow eyes glazed over. The silver tabby she-cat was dead, and her kit, motherless._

 _"…Mama?" the she-kit muttered, confused at what just happened. She turned around, and dug her head into the loner's blood-stained belt. She lifted her head, and turned to look at Mouseheart. "She doesn't smell right."_

 _The tabby tom frowned. The poor kit had no idea what was happening to her mother, and now, she was an orphan. At last, the tom meowed, "She's gone…she'll be asleep forever."_

 _At his revelation, the kit's mews broke out into a wail, alarming the warrior. He tried to think of how she could calm her down, but nothing came to mind. His mind then drifted to his Clan, ThunderClan. Would Molestar even accept the kit of a loner into the Clan? What would everyone else think?_

I can't just leave her here, _he thought._ It would be against the warrior code to do so. …Plus, she'll die out here without a queen's milk.

 _Trying his best to block out the she-kit's loud mews, he grabbed the kit, and started to walk back to ThunderClan's camp. As he made his trek, he started to think about the tiny gray bundle he was holding. She must have been only a moon or so old; she definitely wasn't ready to become an apprentice. And then came the issue of who would take care of her. The only queen in the Clan had not kitted yet, despite being very close to doing so._

 _At last, he had arrived at the familiar barrier that surrounded the camp, and made his way through the brambles. At his arrival, his best friend, Stormspark, started to pad up to him when he noticed the tiny kit he was holding, and then backed away a few pawsteps._

 _"Dear StarClan!" he exclaimed in terror. "Why is she so…bloody?!"_

 _Mouseheart shook his head, and a pang of pity surged through his body for the small kit he was holding. "She stayed by her mother's side, even when she was dying," he murmured, his voice barely audible because of the fur he had in his mouth._

 _"So…" the gray tom meowed, his voice drifting off in uncertainty. "Someone killed her mother?"_

 _The warrior nodded, and the gray she-kit let out a mew of surprise. She said no words, but he could assume that the loner's kit had put together what exactly happened to the silver tabby in her mind._

 _With one last glance down at the kit, Stormspark focused his determined yellow eyes on the light brown tom. "I'll get Ravendusk. Now."_

 _The smaller warrior giving a nod of approval, the tom dashed off to the medicine cat's den, leaving Mouseheart and the strange kit exposed to the rest of the Clan. Gasps of terror and surprise arose from the previously humble cats, and all the attention was turned onto the tom. Nervousness clawing at him, he set down the she-kit he was holding gently, and she immediately scurried behind him, hiding._

 _"Mouseheart, who's that?" his mother spoke up, her ice-blue eyes resting on the gray she-kit barely visible to the rest of the clan._

 _Gulping, he stuttered, "W-Well, I found her next to her mother…" He paused briefly, shuffling his paws uncomfortably. "She told me to take care of this kit with her dying breath."_

 _"We can't take care of her," Whitewillow pointed out. "Needlebelly hasn't kitted yet." Yowls of approval rose with the white-and-yellow warrior's words, and soon enough, Stormspark and Ravendusk emerged from the medicine cat's den to address the sudden appearance of a loner's kit._

 _Ravendusk lowered her white-tipped tail, trying to silence the crowd. "Calm down," she meowed, her voice projecting across the camp. "We'll figure out what to do with Mouseheart's kit in time."_

She's not even my kit, _the tabby tom thought in annoyance._

 _The black-and-white she-cat gestured for him to follow her, and she swooped up the she-kit, causing her to let out a squeal of surprise. The medicine cat reentered her den with the kit, and the small warrior did the same. She put her down on a piece of moss, and started licking her in order to get rid of the silver she-cat's blood._

 _"Ugh," Ravendusk muttered under her breath, and looked up at Mouseheart with a crinkled nose. "She smells horrible."_

 _"Can't you get rid of it?" he asked. He had not noticed the smell of blood on her before, but now that it was drying up, the scent was especially pungent._

 _"That's what I'm going to do," she meowed, padding over to a pile of purple flowers. Grabbing a bundle of them, she returned to where the kit was sitting, and started to rub it over her body. The tiny cat let out mews of discomfort._

 _"…Are you sure?" the tom asked. The smell was definitely starting to repress, but he did not think that was the best way to apply the flowers._

 _"I know what I'm doing," Ravendusk snapped, giving an annoyed glance at Mouseheart before returning to her work._

 _A few days later, Mouseheart returned to the medicine cat's den, checking up on the kit he had brought to the clan. Poking his head into the tangy-smelling nest, he saw the fluffy kit resting on a pile of moss. Her bones were started to show through her pelt, worrying for the kit. He had tried to bring her a few mice to eat, but she refused. All the poor kit wanted was her mother's milk._

 _But alas, that would never be the case. All they could do now is wait for Needlebelly to kit. Anxiety gripped the clan like a hawk digging its talons into prey, worried of what could happen to the loner's kit named Bee._

 _"…Perhaps we should give her an official name," the aged leader finished, his amber gaze fixed on the smaller she-cat._

She'll be Beekit, then, _Mouseheart thought at this notion. The question was, however, would ThunderClan accept her officially? They were just taking care of her for now. The tom decided to officially make his presence know, pushing his way into the den. The black-and-white cat turned her head to face the small warrior._

 _"Welcome, Mouseheart," Ravendusk meowed. "Do you need something?"_

 _His green eyes laid on the starving she-kit, feeling pitiful for her. "Is Bee alright?" he asked, worrying for her safety. It would be a shame to break the silver she-cat's promise now._

 _The medicine cat shook her head. "She still will not accept any fresh-kill I offer her." She shrugged. "Needlebelly is due anytime now, I just don't know_ when _exactly."_

 _"Only StarClan knows," Molestar meowed, sorrow flashing in his eyes. "Let's pray that they will keep this kit you brought safe."_

 _After he finished speaking, a yowl of pain suddenly rang through the silence of the forest, causing the mangy tom to jump. Pawsteps rushed up to the ledge leading to the medicine den, and a gray-and-white she-cat poked her head inside. It was Froststing, a cat from the expecting queen's first litter._

 _"Ravendusk!" she yowled, panic evident in her eyes. "Needlebelly's kitting!"_

 _Hope flashed in the older she-cat's amber eyes, and she pushed past the other two toms in the den. Lifting her head, she commanded, "Go fetch me a stick, Froststing. I will handle the rest."_

 _Giving an obedient nod, the warrior ran off, and so did Ravendusk, hurrying her way down the hollow. Mouseheart felt a pang of relief go through his body. At last, his promise to the loner would be fulfilled. He would try his best to take of Bee, and hopefully, she would live a long and happy life._

* * *

Living a long and happy life did not seem favorable at the moment, however.

Beesong, in the tom's eyes, was the most likely suspect on who killed Snowface. It made sense – she ran off with the rogues that hurt him about a quarter-moon ago. Only StarClan knows what she was doing with them. If she led them to ThunderClan, it would be her fault.

"You're right," Mouseheart muttered at last. He looked up at Molestar. "But we still don't have enough evidence against her."

"I think we do," the brown-and-cream tom meowed. "So, here is what I want you to do." He narrowed his amber gaze, piercing through the deputy's pelt like icicles. Lowering his head, he said in a whisper, "I want you to kill Beesong."

The brown tabby let out a _mrrow_ of surprise. " _Kill her?!_ Have you got bees in your brain?!"

"Hush!" he demanded, and then dropped his voice again. "I'm serious. It's what's best for ThunderClan. We can't risk having traitors in the forest."

Mouseheart bit his tongue. He had to listen to his leader; it was against the warrior code not to do so. But did he have the heart to do so? Sure, he did not like the gray she-cat that much anymore, but he had helped raised her since she was a small kit.

But he had no choice. He had to accept his offer. He was still a loyal warrior of ThunderClan, and being one meant listening to his leader.

Gulping, he gave a hesitant nod to the large tom. "…Okay. I'll do it."

The tom nodded. "Good." Flicking his tail, he meowed, "You are dismissed, Mouseheart."

"Thank you." His head down low, the tabby got up on his paws, and walked out of the den, his paws dragging. He found a ledge to rest on, and laid down, scanning the camp in search of the warrior he was tasked to kill.

Icefoot padded up to the ledge, and lifted his head to look up at the tom. "Is something wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his blue eyes.

Blinking, Mouseheart shook his head, avoiding his gaze. "No." He looked down at his paws. "I'm fine."

His former apprentice was unimpressed. "Come on, Mouseheart. Something's obviously bothering you."

 _There is,_ he told himself. But how would Icefoot react if he told him the order he was given? "I told you, I'm fine," the deputy lied once more, his meow becoming louder. Focusing his eyes on the gray tabby, he meowed, "I just need to think."

The warrior frowned. "If you say so." The tom padded off, and the small tabby lifted his head as he exited the camp with Froststing. He assumed they were going hunting. As long as everything else in the camp was going smoothly, everything would be fine.

However, he still had to murder Beesong, as per the ThunderClan leader's orders. He looked up at the blue sky above him. Would StarClan approve? He just needed a sign that it was safe to do so. Without an answer, he was lost.

* * *

"Didn't I tell you _not_ to hunt?" Speckfeather reminded the deputy, padding up to his side as he was leaving the camp. Night started to blanket the forest in darkness, only the faintest traces of stars becoming visible in the dusk sky. He had already sent out the border patrol; they were expected back any time soon.

Mouseheart focused his green eyes on the white tom. "Yes," he answered. "But I can't just sit around camp all day. Besides, we need food more than ever."

The speckled warrior blinked, and let out a sigh. "You're still young. You have plenty of time to hunt."

"I'm the _deputy_ , Speckfeather. Molestar appointed me for a reason."

"Keep in mind, Mouseheart, he's one of the oldest cats in the forest. He hasn't been in his right mind for moons."

The mangy tom lashed his tail, remembering Molestar's order to kill Beesong. "That's something I can agree with, but obviously, StarClan approves of his decision."

Annoyance flickered in the tom's yellow eyes. "Fine. At least let me hunt with you."

"Good idea," he meowed. "Two warriors are better than one."

Pushing through the snowy brambles, the two toms entered the forest. The white tom lifted his head, sniffing. He turned his head towards the lake shore, and he gestured for Mouseheart to follow him. Creeping through the undergrowth, the scent of a vole caught the deputy's interest, and he assumed that was what Speckfeather was tracking.

Not far from the shore, the tabby saw a flash of brown fur, trying to dig through the frozen ground. His companion lowered into a crouch, and lowered his tail, causing the tom to do the same. With a swift leap, the warrior pounced on the vole, and it stopped. The tom picked up the piece of fresh-kill, and padded over to Mouseheart.

"There's one," he meowed, muffled by the brown fur in his mouth. "It's not much, but it will do." Speckfeather passed the smaller tom, walking towards the direction of the Clan's camp.

"Wait!" the light tabby called, catching up to him. "At least let me catch something!"

"Good luck with that," the white cat grumbled. "I was lucky to catch this vole. I doubt anything else will be out right now."

"We can at least try," Mouseheart protested.

"I already told you," Speckfeather started, "your wound might open up again if you keep hunting."

The deputy's pelt pricked with anger. "Who cares?"

The flecked tom swung around and dropped the vole he was carrying, ears flattened. "Your mother does, Mouseheart! Your mother!" he snapped. "She told me she's worried for you."

Mouseheart backed up, suddenly becoming regretful of what he had done. "…I-I'm sorry," he apologized. Speckfeather huffed, and without speaking another word, he grabbed the vole he had caught, and headed back to camp. The tabby trailed behind him, keeping his head low.

 _How many more mistakes am I going to make?_ he wondered solemnly. He shook his head. _Speckfeather's right, I shouldn't have been made deputy. But I can't give up now._ He shuddered. _I'll forever be remembered as a mouse-heart if I resign._

Once they had reached camp, the white warrior dropped the vole onto the small fresh-kill pile, and slipped back into the warriors' den. Mouseheart returned to his ledge, and sat down, waiting for the border patrol to return.

When the sky had become a little darker, the patrol had indeed return. The leader of it, Lightningskip, dashed over to him with the energy of a kit exploring the camp for the first time. The young warrior's ear was bleeding profusely, a chunk of it torn off.

"Mouseheart!" he meowed excitedly, eyes wide. "We fought some rogues!"

His ears flew up in alarm. "Rogues?" he meowed, surprised. "How many?"

"Two," a white-and-yellow she-cat joined in, her apprentice standing alongside her. The warrior's cheek had been scratched. "We think they may have been the same ones from before."

"What did they look like?" the deputy pressed.

"There was a white one and a gray one," Nettlepaw explained. Several scratches were apparent on his body.

 _White and Twist!_ he realized. Whitewillow had been right. "What were they doing?"

"Hunting," Pricklepelt growled. Despite a long gash on her back, staining her black pelt red, she seemed as fiesty as ever. "On _our_ territory."

 _Again?_ Mouseheart frowned. He thought he had sent the message on their last encounter.

"They fled after the fight," Lightningskip added. "They're such mouse-hearts." He glanced up at the deputy. "No offense."

"None taken," he muttered. The innocent ginger tom often meant no harm. "Anyways, you all should go see Ravendusk." The deputy climbed off of the rock and padded up to Pricklepelt. "Especially you."

"Don't worry," the black she-cat meowed, and then she winced. "We're not as mouse-brained as _some_ cats."

"Right, right," he muttered. The tom straightened, and trying to sound confident, he told the group of warriors, "Thank you for telling me. I'll go tell Molestar now."

"Any time, Mouseheart," Lightningskip meowed, and the brown tabby dismissed the group with a single nod. Even now, the patrol was supposed to go their separate ways, but they all had the same destination – Ravendusk's den.

But Mouseheart had somewhere else to go – his leader's den.

"Molestar, Molestar!" the deputy yowled as he climbed up the rocks leading to the tom's den. "I have something important to tell you!"

The elderly leader, who was just exiting his den, snapped his head around to look at the approaching tabby. His tired amber eyes had gone wide with alarm and surprise, and despite his age, he definitely looked alert. He took a few more steps out of the den as Mouseheart arrived on the uppermost ledge of the hollow.

"What is it?" the brown-and-cream tom asked, fear trickling into his mew.

"The rogues," the mangy tom panted. He'd have to admit, he was growing tired as well. "They've returned."

" _What?!_ " he gasped. "Where?!"

"They attacked the border patrol," he explained. "Lightningskip told me they fled afterwards."

The leader muttered something under his breath, and then meowed, "Did anyone get hurt?"

All he could reply with was a single, sad nod.

Molestar's ears flattened. "…I see." His eyes darted away from green ones. "We'll just have to send out more border patrols," he mumbled.

"What if it has something to do with Beesong?" Mouseheart suddenly blurted out. Amber eyes met with his own again, as if curious. "She was with them once, wasn't she?"

ThunderClan's leader crept closer to the tom, and then, he started to whisper to him in a low voice, almost like a warning.

"Then you'll just have to kill her tonight."

* * *

 **A/N: Man... I feel made for forcing you to wait this long for the shortest chapter yet. The main focus of this chapter was supposed to be on Beesong's origins, hinting towards the reason why she was out with White and Twist that one night. So, I hope you all like this chapter despite its length; I never intended this one to be too terribly long either way. And besides, I left you all on a little cliffhanger... As for the next chapter, I do not think it will be a long one either. So perhaps you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter, maybe as soon as next week. Well, Branchwing, out!**


	7. Chapter 6

Mouseheart let out a squeak of surprise. "T-Tonight?!" He could hardly believe his ears. "But why tonight?"

"You have a point." Molestar sat down, his tail thumping on the ground. "She could possibly be connected to them."

"And if she's dead…"

"…They might just leave us alone." The leader's face relaxed. "I think everyone would like it if they were gone as soon as possible."

A feeling of dread hung over Mouseheart like a storm cloud; all he let out was a single meow, "…Okay." With a single tail flick, the deputy of ThunderClan was dismissed. As he climbed back down to the familiar floor of the camp, his mind raced with thoughts on what to do next. He was conflicted between two choices – kill Beesong or not. Whatever the case was, she had to leave ThunderClan.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it. The warrior code states that the word of the leader is the warrior code. Disobeying Molestar would be breaking the warrior code. Still, there must be something he could do.

The night sky stretched above the trees, the pale moon shining dimly. It was hard to believe a peaceful night like today could be so eventful. The deputy scanned the camp, looking for the pale gray warrior. She had to be somewhere, right? Soon enough, she entered the camp with Icefoot, who had a decaying rabbit in his mouth. Mouseheart's nose crinkled at the pungent smell of it, but nonetheless, he started to pad up to them.

"Hey," he meowed. Beesong's ears perked up, while Icefoot dropped the rabbit he was carrying. He glanced between the two cats. "I see you went hunting."

The gray tabby nodded. "All we could find was this rabbit." He prodded it closer to the center of the fresh-kill pile. "It's probably crowfood, but it's better than nothing."

The mangy tom gulped. "…I see. Anyways." His green eyes met Beesong's yellow eyes. "I need to talk to you."

The warrior's eyes widened. "Me?!"

"Yeah, y-"

"About what?"

The deputy paused. "…Follow me." He passed her and started to exit the hollow, and turned his head to face her a tail-lengths away from the tunnel. "We must talk in private."

"Okay!"

Without any objection from the younger cat, the two left the ThunderClan camp and started to head deeper into the frostbitten forest. The grass felt crunchy underneath Mouseheart's paws. It has not seen sunlight for moons, and while snow still dotted the trees and ground white, it has mostly melted since then. It was a sign newleaf was coming soon, but the harsh leafbare was not over just yet. He did not reveal where he was taking Beesong just yet, but he had an idea.

As they neared the abandoned twoleg nest, the tabby kept his eyes open for the place where he had first met his current companion – and where her real mother died. They passed it, and his pelt tingled with anticipation. How would she react? Was he doing the right thing? It was something only StarClan knew.

At last, he noticed something. A scratch in the bark of one of the trees. Something had put it there seasons ago, and he had seen it while he was talking to the silver loner. The deputy stopped.

"We're here," he announced.

"Huh?" Beesong stopped as well, halting a few pawsteps in front of him. "What about here?"

Mouseheart held his breath. _I can't just tell her this is where her mother died._ He shuffled his paws. _I have to lead into it._

"Well, this place is a little special to me," he began. The warrior swung around to face her smaller friend, curiosity burning in her eyes. She sat down, waiting for him to continue his story. "I made a promise here, one that I have not broken quite yet." He lowered his head. "But it is about to be broken."

"What was the promise?" the she-cat asked.

"Let me finish," he meowed. "Anyways, it was given to me by a loner. A silver one, with thick black stripes." The tom frowned. "She died in this exact spot moons ago."

Beesong's previous question seemed to have been forgotten, as she now asked, "Who was she?"

Silence settled into the forest, with only the wind howling in the distance. The tabby clenched his teeth, preparing for the she-cat who sits in front of him's reaction. Thoughts raced through his head as he slid his claws out, trying to dig them into the hard, hard ground. He was prepared to kill, and whatever the case may be, he must do it sooner or later.

At last, he lifted his head, and with a somber mew, said, "…She was your mother."

The gray warrior's jaw dropped slightly. "My mother…" Her ears flattened at her self-revelation. "It's almost like… I can smell her scent now."

He was relieved she did not bring up the promise once more, but now, he had to kill her at her weakest moment, while she was lost in a fantasy. He could end it right now. He could put everything behind him, and move forward in the world. He could forget about his past, forget about how he watched his own father fall in front of his very eyes. He lifted a paw, claws glistening in the moonlight, and then he took a step, trembling. He could almost feel them digging into a cat's pelt, ripping through flesh and causing a warrior to fall. It is dishonorable, is it not? Yet, this is what Molestar commanded him to do, no matter how much it went against his personal morals. He must do this.

But… he couldn't do it. As much as Beesong annoyed him, she was still his friend. A friend he has helped raise since she was a weak kit. Now, she was strong, well-muscled warrior, indistinguishable from a rogue cat, compared to himself, a small, lithe warrior who did not deserve his current position. In a sense, Speckfeather was right. Molestar was out of sorts lately, and that included making a coward ThunderClan's deputy.

 _I really am a mouse-heart._ His claws slid back into his paws, and he relaxed his muscles. Beesong still seemed to be lost in thought, and now he had to think of a new plan quickly, one that did not involve death. He straightened, and focused his eyes on the she-cat.

"Beesong," Mouseheart meowed, trying to get her attention. "Are you okay?" No answer came. "Beesong? _Beesong!_ "

Her head snapped back up, and she looked around frantically before realizing who was speaking to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry! So, so sorry!"

"It's fine, it's fine!" the deputy reassured. "I… was going to ask you something." This was something he thought of quickly, no plan had formed yet. Now, he must comprise a question, and fast.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity as her tail twitched ever-so-slightly.

"Could…" Mouseheart paused, thinking of how to complete his statement. "…you tell me about those rogues?" He had to admit, he wanted to learn more about White and Twist. It was dangerous to go stalk them to gather information, so the best thing he could do is to ask those who know them personally. Beesong is the only cat he knew of so far seen with them.

"…Which ones?"

"The two rogues that won't leave ThunderClan alone!" he pressed. "That patrol that returned you to the forest said you were with them that one day!"

"Ohh, them," she mewed in realization. "I can take you to them."

The tabby glanced down at the bundle of cobwebs on his shoulder. "Well… that's not a good idea."

"It'll be okay!" Beesong reassured. "I'll tell White you're with me! They trust me!"

"I-I don't know if I can trust _you_ ," he blurted out, coming across as stuttering.

Taken aback, the warrior then hissed, "You had to trust me enough to bring me to the Clans!"

"I…" He shouldn't have said that. "I know… But you've grown! You aren't the same cat you were as a kit!"

"There's a difference between a kit and a full-grown warrior," she snapped, and then let out a huff.

Mouseheart frowned. He had made a mistake, and now he must fix it. "Look, let's just forget this conversation ever happened, and now we can go to wherever White and Twist live."

"Oh, do you trust me now?" Beesong taunted.

"Yes, yes I do! Just please, take me to the rogues!" the tabby begged. The quick plan he thought of was now falling apart. Now, he was losing the cat that was supposed to die's trust.

"Okay, then." The change of her tone was so sudden, leaving the tom dumbfounded. With a flick of her tail, she turned around and started to walk towards the border, and he followed. The trees started to thin, and more snow became apparent. Tree stumps were apparent in the area… had twolegs been here?

Soon enough, a large, dark shape was apparent in the distance. It was if Beesong's eyes lit up in excitement when she saw the structure.

"We're almost there," the gray warrior informed Mouseheart. "I don't know if they're asleep or not. If either of them is awake, it's probably my brother."

The mangy deputy grew nervous. "Your… brother? You have a brother?"

She nodded. "Older brother. A little bit after I met the rogues, White told me his littermates died young, but he survived."

"…I see," he replied. "What's his name?"

"You already know," Beesong simply stated.

"Is it…" He gulped. Mouseheart was not prepared for this revelation, the fact that she was related to one of these rogues in any way, shape, or form. "…Twist?"

All she could give was a regretful nod, and her tail now dragged on the ground below them. Revealing to the deputy that her brother was a huge threat to ThunderClan at the moment seemed to have taken a great toll on her. The tom could not find the right words to express his thoughts, like a fox was clamping down on his neck. Not a single sound came out of either of them for the rest of the journey, with only the howling of the wind surrounding them.

At last, when the clouds had covered the moon, the two cats arrived at a twoleg nest. It seemed run-down, almost abandoned. It was different from the one back in ThunderClan's territory, being in a neater state. Two scents hit Mouseheart's nose, both familiar. He assumed this was the scent of the rogues.

"Hello?" Beesong mewed. "Anyone awake?"

A single amber eye appeared within the darkness. Soon enough, a white shape emerged from the shadows. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the small tabby, a certain look of disgust apparent.

 _White!_ he thought in alarm. Beesong was hoping her brother was awake, but instead, it was the one-eyed tom.

"Why him?" White asked, his meow sharp and curt. The rogue flexed his unsheathed, gnarled claws, as if ready to pounce on him like prey. "He's just a loyal piece of fox-dung."

The insult stinging, the deputy's ears flattened. "I'm right here," he muttered.

"I don't really care," he snapped. "I am just a little surprised you're alive, that's all." His attention then turned to the larger cat next to Mouseheart. "What, did you save him?"

"He's my friend! He just wanted to meet you and Twist!" Beesong fired back, dodging the question as her tail lashed.

"Really?" The cat raised an eyebrow. "Is that really the only reason you traveled with Bee today?" White took a few steps towards the brown tabby, his shadow looming over him. He could even feel his hot, stinky breath washing over him.

"Her name's Bee _song_ ," the deputy clarified.

He dug his claws into the ground. "She was always Bee to me. Trust me, she won't be singing longer. If Ebere didn't take her away from me, then perhaps everything would be different."

 _Ebere?_ Mouseheart's fright now turned into confusion. "W-Who's Ebere?"

"Bee's mother. That good-for-nothing kittypet thought she could live with me for moons upon moons." His shoulders relaxed, and the rogue shook his head. "She did, but soon enough, she reverted to that instinct to flee from a wild cat."

The confusion cleared up, now replaced with anger. It was as if a thousand different emotions tried to claw their way into him. "Did you kill her?" he snapped. "She was innocent! Beesong would have died if I hadn't found her!"

The rogue was taken aback. "Innocent?! She betrayed the two of us!" he roared. "She made a pact to stay with us until her very last breath, yet she begged and begged to those good-for-nothing twolegs to kick us out of our old home. She succeeded, and now we have to live in this poor excuse for a nest!" Then, his meow turned cold. "Once that happened, she fled. Like you, you little mouse-heart."

"You still didn't answer my question," the tabby hissed. "Did you kill her?"

"Of course not; she left on her own accord." White looked behind him to no one in particular, and then his attention returned to the small tom. "It was Twist that chased after her and finished her off once and for all." His demeanor completely changed as he boasted, "He really took after his father." He smirked. "And that father would be me."

Mouseheart, to his own surprise, was not even surprised that Twist's, and by extension, Beesong's, father was White. He was expecting her to be related to a horrible cat. Yet, out of the two rogues, White was much more stable than the gray tom could ever be. He was just cocky at best.

"You must be doing something wrong in parenthood, then," he snapped. "Yo-"

" _Stop_!" Beesong finally yowled. She put herself between the two arguing cats, taking neither side. "This is pointless! I know my mother's dead, but that's in the past! Why can't we be friends?"

"This is a Clan cat, Bee," her father growled. "They can't be trusted."

"Says the cat whose daughter is a Clan cat," ThunderClan's deputy grumbled.

"That's a different case," he snapped. "She has my blood." He lowered his head and whispered something barely audible, directed towards the she-cat. Yet he could just barely here it. "We're more similar than you think."

The gray she-cat's eyes widened at his remark, and stumbled backwards. She flattened her ears, and gave a sorrowful look at Mouseheart. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The one-eyed tom gave a glance down at the warrior, and then back to him. Neither of them said a word. He half-expected Twist to emerge from the shadows and leap out at him, but it did not come. Their argument was done here. Nothing more could be said.

The tabby did not know what to do. He could just straight-out admit that Molestar wants her dead, or he could kill her in the middle of the night. The former would save a life, but he would be going behind his own leader's back. What would StarClan think of that? The latter would do the opposite, along with the side effect of making the rogues even angrier. Images of his father's blood spilling on the forest floor flashed through his mind. He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

Killing her would make him just like his father's killer.

"Molestar wants you dead," he suddenly blurted out, and both cats perked up in alarm. They exchanged worried glances before returning their attention to him. Realizing his mistake, he noticed his paws started to shake. _Not again…_

"Molestar _what_?" Beesong reiterated, not grasping the concept.

"H-He wants you dead." His tail pointed towards the she-cat. "You, specifically."

"Why?!" both of them cried at the same time.

"He thinks you killed Snowface," Mouseheart replied, confidence building. _I wouldn't be surprised if she actually did._

"Why would I, out of all the cats in the forest, kill Snowface?" she perplexed. "Besides, killing me is such a mouse-brained idea," she uttered shortly after.

"I hate to say it, but…" he trailed off, not sure how to word it to her. "There's a lot of evidence against you."

"Like what?" It was White who spoke this time, his tone hostile.

"One, Beesong's the kit of a loner," he started. "Two, she was the only warrior who left camp after his last appearance."

"I was hunting!" she interrupted in protest. "Besides, why does it matter that I'm the kit of a loner? I've proven my loyalty over and over again!"

"Well, the cats on that patrol said they saw you with White and Twist," Mouseheart continued, disregarding her statement. "Loyalties can change."

"Do you really expect me to follow the path of a rogue?" the gray she-cat cried, her eyes filled with dismay. "I would never turn my back on my Clan! Ever!"

"I'm just stating facts," the tabby meowed bluntly, trying to maintain a professional manner. "My point still stands; there's a lot of evidence pointing towards you."

"She does not seem like the kind of cat to just kill others on whim," White defended, his amber eye narrowing. "I have not known her for long, but it seems I can tell more than a mouse-brain could."

"How dare you!" he snapped. His claws slid out, ready to lash out against the rogue. "I saved her from death!"

"How close-minded can you be," the white tom growled. "She's innocent, get over it."

"Fine." He lashed his tail, upset. "But Beesong cannot return to ThunderClan."

"Why not?" the warrior asked, tilting her head.

"M-Molestar…" He gulped. "…might banish me if I don't follow his orders."

"It sounds like this 'Molestar' cat has bees in his brain," White remarked. "Can't you overthrow him or something?"

"I can't," Mouseheart admitted. He never really thought of it before. "He was chosen by StarClan to be the leader of ThunderClan."

"I don't believe in this 'StarClan' nonsense."

"They're our ancestors! They are much, much wiser than anyone can be."

"They're not my ancestors. If they chose him, then they must be doing something wrong."

"Back on topic, I won't kill Beesong on one condition." The aforementioned cat's yellow eyes grew wide with fear. Determined, he stared up at her father with his green eyes. "You and Twist are to never cross ThunderClan territory and hunt there ever again. Or any of the Clans, for that matter."

"It's hard to find prey these days," White meowed. "Even in leafbare, the forest is so rich with them."

"I'm sorry, but it's _our_ territory. The Clans have been living alongside the lake for moons," Mouseheart argued. "You're just going to have to find somewhere else."

Silence settled around them, and the deputy held his breath. What would the rogue say? It could end badly.

"…Fine," he surrendered. "If it means that Bee won't be hard, then I'll accept." The rogue looked behind him, then back to the mangy tom. "I doubt Twist will be happy, though."

 _Of course._ "Maybe I can talk to him in the morning?"

"I suppose," he replied. "It might help him understand if you tell him directly." He got up, and started to head inside the twoleg nest, gesturing to follow.

The three cats poked their heads inside. The nests the rogues made were sloppy, thrown together without much thought. The long-legged gray tom slept peacefully in one of them, his chest rising up and down. One of his torn ears twitched, startling the tabby a little bit. But he should not ponder on it now, should he? The other rogue padded over to the extra nests.

"You two can sleep here," he uttered quietly. "If Twist wakes up, I'll tell him why you two are here."

"Thank you." With a respectful nod, the two ThunderClan cats scrambled to the nest, and laid down in it. It was cramped, and Mouseheart was feeling uncomfortable with Beesong's soft fur up against his. Unfortunately, this was all the space they had.

"…Molestar won't find out, right?" she whispered in his ear, wary.

"He won't," he assured her. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! I apologize for the long wait again. School came along, and I just kind of... forgot about it. However, tonight, I got a surge of motivation to finish this chapter at last. I feel like it got rushed a little bit towards the end, but oh well. How long will you have to wait for the next one? I don't know, but hopefully it won't be over four months this time. I'd like to point out that recently, Faded Stars passed it's one-year anniversary! So, happy birthday to this story, I suppose.**

 **Back to the story in regards to this chapter. Who do you think killed Snowface now? What are your predictions on what is going to happen next? I tried to sneak a little foreshadowing into there, so that might give you an idea. Anyways, I hoped you liked this chapter, and once again, I apologize for the wait. Branchwing, out!**


	8. Chapter 7

Mouseheart woke up in a starlit clearing, frosty trees surrounding him. It was if the scents of all the seasons swirled around him at once; the icy bitterness of leafbare the most prominent. Overhead was a dark sky, and in the distance, he could hear footsteps patter within the forest. The footsteps grew closer, and closer, and the deputy could not say anything. He was too scared to speak.

Suddenly, a dark shape emerged from the trees. A black tom now towered over him, his glossy fur rippling as he approached. His starry blue eyes held a familiarity to him as they darted down towards him. There seemed to be an eerie calmness surrounding him, stars dancing in his pelt. Suddenly, he realized who was standing in front of him.

"Snowface!" the small tom exclaimed. "You're here!"

The white-headed tom dipped his head. "Indeed." He paused briefly, and went on to say, "You did the right thing, Mouseheart. Even if you went behind your leader's back, you did it to protect the innocent. StarClan admires your courage."

He felt honored, a rush of pride swelling through him. "T-Thank you. It's an honor to serve as your successor, Snowface."

The former deputy dipped his head in respect. "There is one more thing I should tell you." The tabby tom's ears peaked in interest. "To clear the dark thunderclouds, a new leader must arise."

"Wha-?" Before he could finish, the large tom started to fade out of the clearing. "Wait! Snowface! Can't you at least tell me who killed you?"

"That is for you to figure out, young one." His voice echoed as he faded out of sight.

"Wait!" Before Mouseheart knew it, everything faded into nothingness.

* * *

"Why is _he_ here?!"

Mouseheart shot up from his nest, and looked around. Why was he here…? Then it came back to him. He was supposed to kill Beesong. Now, he was residing in the same twoleg nest the rogues lived in. He was in the home of the enemy for now. And yet, Beesong was still alive, sleeping next to him. She seemed to have not heard the outcry. An air of hostility hung around them, with Twist's fur bristling as he dug his claws into the ground.

"Calm down." White lowered his tail, commanding for his son to sit down. "He's our guest for now."

"He's our enemy," the gray tabby snapped back. "We can't let cats in here whenever you feel like it. It'd be like welcoming a badger in here!"

"I know, but Bee brought him along." He pointed towards the two Clan cats. "He has something to tell you." The two rogues looked over at Mouseheart, and his anxiety started to grow.

"Oh! Right, right." He got up from his nest, the shoulder with the now-forming scar on it a little sore. He puffed out his chest, trying to make himself seem bigger. "Beesong is going to stay with you two until further notice."

The reaction from Twist was almost immediate. "She is, now?" He slinked over to her, standing over the she-cat. The early sun casted a shadow over her sleeping form. "Why might that be the case, you little mouse-heart?"

"My leader, the leader of ThunderClan wants her dead for a crime she didn't commit," the deputy explained, trying to ignore his insult. "I…can't bring myself to kill her."

The rogue burst out in laughter. "Wow, you're even more mouse-brained than I thought you were," he wheezed in the midst of it. "Leaving her here won't solve anything. Not unless you don't have any evidence to convince him."

"This was supposed to be a secret mission!" he protested. "If I come back with blood on my paws, the whole Clan will know I killed her!"

"Then find another method. It's that simple," the gray tom chided. "Look, if you're really that desperate to leave her here, then I can show you something."

White gave him an uneasy glance. "Are you suggesting…?"

"Yes," Twist finished. "Follow me, little mouse-heart."

"Wait…" The mangy tom did not budge at all, his suspicions rising. "How do I know you're not leading me into a trap?"

"You don't," he replied before heading out of the nest.

"You ought to follow," the elder rogue suggested. "We may still be enemies, but we are your allies for now."

"Fine, fine," Mouseheart grumbled, and he slipped out of the twoleg nest as well to catch up with the other rogue.

It had started to snow once more, yet the sun was peeking out of the clouds. Orange light surrounded them as the two toms treaded through the snow, the area becoming more and more unfamiliar. Where was Twist taking him, exactly? Suddenly, a new, strong scent hit his nose, and he became alarmed.

 _Foxes!_ he realized. More fear crept into him. What was he planning to do exactly? Leave him out for the dead?

The fox stench grew stronger and stronger, until it was pretty much fresh. Twist flicked his tail and told the ThunderClan cat to stop. They waited, and suddenly, a single fox crawled out of its nest. Immediately, it spotted the two invading cats, a malignant glare in its dark, beady eyes. The light brown tabby unsheathed his claws, ready to strike. He glanced over at the rogue.

"What are you doing?!" he hissed. The tom was simply standing, not intending to take action.

"I'll let you fight this fox." He took a few steps back. "Besides, if you're really some experienced 'warrior', then you can get rid of this fox once and for all."

"Do you know how dangerous they are?!" Mouseheart snapped. "Even warriors have died trying to fight foxes!"

Before Twist could answer, the fox pounced. Its weight crashed down onto the deputy, its jaw snapping at him. He slashed its muzzle, but that did not faze him. It reached down for his throat, but he rolled over, the teeth simply grazing his neck, yet he freed himself from the fox's grasp. It stumbled in surprise, but wasted no effort rushing towards him. Mouseheart was faster. He dashed around the fox and made a leap for its back. It did not succeed, and the fox attacked back. The fox's claws slashed his side, and the deputy wreathed in pain.

 _Dear StarClan, help me!_

Luckily, size was an advantage here. The tabby slipped under the beast's belly, raking his claws through it. It howled in pain, but the young fox did not just seem to give it. Despite the injury, it kept fighting. It made another attempt at ripping his throat out, yet the deputy was able to get out of the way in time. Instead, it was barreling towards Twist. The rogue stepped out of the way, leaving the fox to crash into the frozen ground. Blood started to leak out of its nose, but that did not faze it at all. Once again, it jolted towards Mouseheart, teeth bared.

The cat jumped on a rock, with his intentions being to catch it from above. The fox stopped abruptly to sniff the air, and then it started to head towards the rock the deputy perched on. Head-on, he leaped towards the fox, the impact knocking it down belly-up. Claws unsheathed, he started ripping its throat. Warm blood embraced his claws, and the beast's white neck fur was stained red, spreading to the snow below. The life faded out of its evil eyes, and they became glossy with the mark of death. Mouseheart pulled his claws out of the fox and got off of it. It went limp.

Twist chuckled. "You said they are dangerous, yet you won."

The skin under the tabby's pelt became hot with anger. "I just got lucky!" he snapped. As soon as he finished, he noticed the fatigue from the brief battle set in. His legs started to shake, and his own scarlet blood still leaked out of his wounds. He would bleed out if he remained here and meet a similar fate to the fox. "…Besides, I'm not in great shape."

An unamused look crossed the gray tabby's face, and he then grumbled, "Look, I can carry you back, you little kit-warrior. You're small enough."

"I can still walk," he protested, puffing out his chest fur. "And I'm not a kit!"

"Still counts." Before the deputy could say another word, the rogue snuck behind him and grabbed him by the scruff. Curses started to run through his head as he froze, helpless.

"Just drop me off by the border," Mouseheart demanded. "We made an agreement."

"Which is…?"

"Beesong can stay as long as you never enter Clan territory, ever again."

"Oh yeah, right." Twist, still holding Mouseheart, continued to trudge through the snow as the fields turned back into the woods, and the scent of ThunderClan grew stronger and stronger. A trail of blood followed them, but they had no time to clean it up.

"We're here," the brown tom announced after some time. Immediately, the gray tom released his hold, and the smaller cat plopped onto the ground. He got back onto his paws, and turned his head to look into Twist's yellow eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem," the rogue meowed and left without another word.

Mouseheart returned his attention to the land in front of him. Everything was familiar now. He hated having to spend more time in the medicine cat den, but it would allow him to process recent events. Beesong was gone, but he did not expect his life to get any better. He took a step, and then another. It was a miracle he was still on the earth, walking around like life was normal. With that mention, another thought hung in his mind—when will this luck streak end? He sniffed the air, trying to recognize any familiar cats. Someone had definitely been here; the border marking was fresh. He peered through the trees to look at the sky. It was blue now, and he had to bet that the dawn patrol had passed by now.

While walking, he started to cry out the names of ThunderClan cats, in hopes that someone was nearby. He hoped that whoever he found could fetch Ravendusk to treat him quickly before bringing him back to the medicine den for more efficient methods. Alas, no one came. As he drew closer to camp, he gave up. He took a deep breath, preparing to enter through the brambles to tell a lie. Though he was no mastermind, he already had an idea of what he would say to the rest of the Clan.

When he approached the camp, he was met with perplexed faces from the guards, Kestrelshade and Seedbreeze. _Not Seedbreeze!_ Mouseheart immediately thought in alarm. _I can't let her see me weak!_

"What happened?" the cream she-cat asked, squinting. "You don't usually get into fights."

"I swear I didn't mean to get into this one," the deputy meowed. He winced in pain from her remark, memories of the past night flooding into his head. He would make a fool of himself here, that was for sure.

"So? What happened?" she pressed.

"Beesong and I got into a fight with a fox," he replied.

"And where is Beesong?" Kestrelshade butted in, raising an eyebrow.

"She's…" He gulped, hesitating before saying the false truth. "…Dead."

The she-cat's ears perked up in alarm. "Dead?!" She looked over at the warrior with the torn ear. "Can you believe this?"

"Considering her behavior, yes," the dark brown tom put bluntly. He then focused his attention on the deputy. "You better go to Ravendusk's den, now," he commanded. "You almost died once since becoming deputy, and you're not dying again today."

"I'll help you," Seedbreeze offered, standing up. "You won't last another step."

"Seedbreeze, please!" he cried. "I can get my own paws there!"

"No." The larger warrior blocked him from entering very briefly, and then she swung around to his hide, and rested her tail on his back. The two cats walked to the medicine cat's den, with every cat staring at them. Mouseheart was embarrassed by all of this, but then again, the love of his life was his escort now.

When they entered, Ravendusk raised a sleepy head. No one else was in the medicine cat den, not even Emberkit. She started to ask what they needed, but quickly she noticed the wounds on the deputy and ushered him in. Seedbreeze left the two to their lonesome, and with little words between them, the black-and-white she-cat began to treat Mouseheart's wounds.

"You really need to follow my advice," she growled. "Look at yourself. Your last wound was healing up all nicely, and now you almost get yourself killed again."

"It's not as serious as last time," he argued. "It was just a fox."

"And any wound can get infected," she snapped back as she rubbed a marigold poultice on the most severe wound. Afterwards, she pushed a sweet-smelling leaf towards him. "You better eat this, too."

"Alright, alright." He ate the chervil leaf like she asked, and he waited once more as Ravendusk covered his wounds in cobwebs.

"Now, rest," she commanded. "I'm not letting you go as early next time."

 _Mouse-dung..._

* * *

Several sunrises later, the medicine cat finally let Mouseheart walk around camp. Once again, Stemtail had assumed deputy responsibilities while he was out of commission, and the tabby even started to have nightmares of Molestar exiling him from the Clan. All in the while, thoughts on what to do now raced through his head. Any leads on who the suspect could be were virtually lost, and sitting around doing nothing would not help him at all.

"Are you sure that piece of fur isn't Snowface's?" Aspenspring had said while visiting him. One thing the tom did decide on was to be more open about his investigation into Snowface's murder. He explained private things that had happened, except for whole ordeal involving Molestar's command to kill Beesong, to his mother first of all. She had been supportive the entire time, though the point she brought up then was a good one.

"I just… know it!" Mouseheart had exclaimed. "His scent wasn't anywhere near where I found it."

"But who did you smell on it?"

"…I don't remember." He did not think he smelled any cat in particular, actually. The tuft's scent was muddied with other ones.

"Then it's Snowface's fur," she had concluded. "That's what I think."

After thinking their conversation over, Mouseheart realized she was right. It was most certainly Snowface's fur that he collected. However, now the whole string of suspects was falling apart. It could be anyone now. Aspenspring and Speckfeather could have not told them something, that was another hole. Thus, he made the decision to ask Molestar to announce his investigation to the whole Clan. To his den was where the deputy was heading now.

"Ah, Mouseheart," the cream-and-brown tom meowed, sitting on the Highledge. "Glad to see you out and about."

"Thanks," he replied to the leader's compliment. "But, I just want to ask you something."

"What is it?" he asked, turning to focus his amber gaze on the deputy.

He straightened, and then Mouseheart offered, "I want to announce my investigation to the Clan."

For a few heartbeats, Molestar was silent, but he shook his head. "Didn't we conclude that Beesong was the murderer?" he argued in a low voice.

"We did, but..." The tabby hesitated, debating on whenever to reveal his dream or not. It was the Clan leader he was talking to, so he should be confident in telling him any visit he had from StarClan, but at the same time, he was afraid of how the ThunderClan leader would react. He decided, why not? Things could only get worse from here. "Snowface visited me in my dream the night after I killed her," he continued. "He said she was innocent."

Quietly, Molestar whined, "Snowface visited you, but not me?" A look of despair crossed his features, but by the time Mouseheart recognized it, he reverted back to a calm stance. "That does not prove anything."

"StarClan is always right, aren't they?" the deputy argued. "We should listen to them!"

"Have you told Ravendusk about your dream?" the tom then asked.

"No," he replied. "She refuses to even talk to me." Mouseheart began to grow frustrated with the leader.

"Strange…" he muttered, gaining a distant look in his gaze. "I wonder why."

"So…" the deputy started. "Please, let me make this investigation public."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Yes I am!" The tabby flexed his claws, and with determination blazing in his green eyes, he continued, "The tuft of fur I found is Snowface's, I'm almost sure of it now. There's no other explanation." He stood taller, puffing out his fur. "Aspenspring's and Speckfeather's memory could have been faulty, and that means a lot more cats might have left the camp than we first thought. Anyone is a suspect, whenever they like it or not."

The ThunderClan leader was taken aback for a heartbeat, but then he nodded, ears flattened ever so slightly. "Very well. I'll let you speak after I make Plumsnout's kits apprentices."

"Thank you." He dipped his head. He started to leave when Molestar laid down a tail to block his path, who told him to wait.

He took a few steps to the edge of the Highledge, and cleared his throat. Straightening, he announced, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting."

Quickly, the Clan sprang to life, and cats came crawling out of their dens and dropped their activities to gather beneath the Highledge. Mouseheart looked down upon the new crowd, amazed at how small they were from this high up. _Will this be normal when I become leader?_ It was one of the first Clan meetings called since he had become the deputy of ThunderClan. To think that all of this chaos had happened in the span of less than a moon felt unsettling to the mangy tom. In this short time, he felt like he has lived a lifetime.

Once the ThunderClan cats had settled down, the leader began to speak. "I call you today for a very important event in a cat's lifetime." Mouseheart started to scan the crowd to search for Flowerkit and Emberkit. Indeed, they were out in the camp, little tails raised high and proud. He wished he had their enthusiasm about the meeting. _But they don't know what I'm going to say._

"Flowerkit! Emberkit!" he called. Eyes sparkling with joy, the two kits stepped up. Plumsnout gave a kind smile as she watched her kits alongside Kestrelshade, who definitely seemed like he was in a good mood. They conversed briefly before the brown-and-cream tom spoke once more. "You two have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed."

"Flowerkit," Molestar continued, "from this day on, you will be known as Flowerpaw. Your mentor will be…" He scanned the crowd, and then meowed, "Mossyfall." The mottled brown tom looked surprised to hear his name uttered. "I hope he passes down all he knows to you.

"As for you, Mossyfall, you are indeed ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Stormcloud—may he find good hunting in StarClan—and I hope you can past down your courage and patience to Flowerpaw." Mossyfall nodded while Flowerpaw padded up to him and they touched noses.

"Flowerpaw! Flowerpaw!" the Clan cheered.

"Now, Emberkit," Molestar meowed. The gray kit seemed to tense out of anticipation. "From this day on, you will be known as Emberpaw. Ravendusk will be your mentor. I trust that she will pass down her knowledge and dedication to you." He turned to the black-and-white she-cat sitting near the edge of the crown. "I trust that you will pass down your knowledge to Emberpaw."

Emberpaw and Ravendusk touched noses, but with a certain hesitance not found between Mossyfall and Flowerpaw. Regardless, the Clan cheered Emberpaw's name. Despite the rough start, the dark gray she-cat beamed with pride.

"Before I dismiss you all," Molestar announced, "the deputy of ThunderClan has something to announce to you." He turned to Mouseheart and dipped his head. The tabby gulped, and he stepped up to the edge of the Highledge. Looking down upon all the cats was nauseating, but he was confident that he could do this. He just needed to muster his words.

"Cats of ThunderClan," he started, his voice a little quiet compared to the leader's. "As you know, Snowface, the late deputy of ThunderClan, was murdered by an unknown cat not even a moon ago." Strange looks came upon their faces. _This isn't going too well…_ "Since I was appointed deputy, I was given a task by Molestar to do something very important." Louder, he meowed, "Discover the culprit behind Snowface's murder!"

Immediately, the Clan burst into conversation, with several cats directed their complaints towards Mouseheart. "Quiet, quiet!" Molestar interjected. "Let him finish."

"Thank you," he meowed quietly to the tom. Turning back to the cats of the Clan, he continued. "Despite my efforts, I have not found out who did it yet. Thus, I'm asking all of you to cooperate with me." More cats talked among themselves, but the tabby tried his best to ignore them. "All of you are suspects. Everyone is guilty until proven innocent."

"Even the kits?!" Snowpond cried out in alarm. "Blizzardkit only just opened his eyes! There's no way he could have killed a full-grown warrior!"

"And even the queens," Darkblossom hissed. "My kits are going to come any day now, and I can't do anything for StarClan's sake, even back when Snowface was killed!"

"The elders, too," Needlebelly pointed out. "Waspdust has been blind for moons! He's been in there ever since that badger clawed his eyes out, and I was a queen for most of my life. I have not needed to fight someone since I was a young warrior. I probably fight like a kittypet at this point."

"And either way," Redfang snapped, "most of us were asleep while Snowface was hunting before the dawn patrol was sent out!

"And weren't you hurt half the time you've been deputy?" Birdpaw added. "That's not very good."

These complaints made the deputy close to giving up. He could just announce that he would stop and walk away, becoming even more of a disappointment. By StarClan, he could just resign and give his job to Stemtail. He would have been a much better detective. However, something inside him drove him to keep going. He could not just quit now. The Clan was loud with outrage, and Mouseheart was quiet, lost in his thoughts and worries.

Instead of backing down, he remained on the Highledge. He would complete this, no matter what the Clan told him. He had to. StarClan was counting on him, and he did not want to let them down. "I realize that," he replied. "But we cannot take any chances. Even the most unlikely cat could be the murderer. We will bring justice, and the murderer will be punished for their crimes!"

The Clan roared in support, the complaints much less now. The Clan started to cheer his name, and for the first time since becoming deputy, Mouseheart felt like he could set things right. He would not give up, and that was his final decision.

* * *

 **A/N: First half of Faded Stars, complete! The stakes are only getting higher from here on out, and there's much more to come in this story. With everything that happened in this rather short chapter, what are your predictions on what is going to happen next? Who do you think the true murderer is? Feel free to leave your thoughts in the reviews. Until next time, Branchwing, out!**


End file.
